Native American Lessons

Henry David and I left Billings on Tuesday, June 25th.  The mountains gave way to rolling hills and drier surroundings. The travel from Greycliff to Billings had continued in a river valley. After Billings, the road became a bit flatter and the prairie grasses were becoming evident. 

HD and I made it to Hardin in the early evening. I stopped and picked up a Subway salad and then popped into a convenience store at a gas station to get a drink. There I met Gary and Sam. Gary was a friendly, grizzled mechanic who loves to travel and work in different places. He introduced me to Sam, a Native American from the area. Sam was tall and had a commanding presence, wearing a bandana over his long hair tied up in a gray pony tail. Sam talked with his arms and his hands in a poetic dance, waving in sweeping gestures and making his body language say more than his words. He talked of the Sun Dance Ceremony, fasting, meditation, respect for Mother Earth. He bemoaned the young people caught up in their daily rush, who have forgotten their roots. It was like something out of a movie. He said he had a gift to heal as a medicine man, but it is only given to people who come to him to seek him out. He does not train anyone nor did anyone train him. He and Gary would be camping down by the river that night.  I kinda got the impression that these 2 friends live on the land and work when its available. 

I spent the night at the Hardin KOA. I got a late shower and went to the laundry room to recharge and write, etc. I didn’t achieve much before it closed. 

On Wednesday, June 26th, it was time to head into rural Native American country. I left the interstate and cycled on hwy 212. First, at the I-90 junction and hwy 212, I stopped at a small travel center near the area designated as the actual battlefield of Little Bighorn. This is a few miles southeast of Crow Agency. At this travel center, I met “Art”, a Crow native who was curious about the trike. 

Art raises cattle and has a gravel pit on his piece of land. He is considered a leader among the people and participates regularly in the Sun Dance ceremonies. He has been invited into school systems in Washington to participate in meetings to pray for students. In one such meeting, he was surrounded by a group of Pentecostal Christians. He began a smudging prayer to pray for the young people as there had been suicides. Apparently, the Christians were horrified, saying his work was “of the devil”. Now Art is deeply spiritual and is considered a holy man among his people. So, he asked the Christians how could his prayers be of the devil? He believes in God, The Great Spirit, the One Creator. Didn’t God make the air you breathe, without which you would die? Didn’t God make the water, without which you would die? Didn’t God make the trees and the flowers and the grass? Didn’t God make fire? So, when you combine the air, water, fire, and earth in a ceremony to bless the people and pray for the young, how could this be of the devil? He asked the people these questions, looking at them squarely in the eyes.

One by one, each Christian in the group asked if they could use his smoke--created by hot coals and water, combined with herbs, and the ceremony became a joining of the two belief systems.  It was so moving that a principal of one of the high schools asked him to come and pray and lead a ceremony for his own school, which had an alarming dropout rate and problems with drug abuse. Art agreed and led a ceremony a short time later. The result: within 2 years, a marked reduction in drop out rates, improved scores, and general school success. Whether related to prayer ceremonies or greater attention to the youth, the success was measurable. 

Art has a lot of faith. He pointed to several far off hills surrounding the area. These “hills” were places of prayer for him and he travels to each one to pray for specific things. He talked about sacred numbers and a little about what they mean. 

For those fellow residents in New Mexico, we recognize the number 4 as sacred and it forms our Zia Symbol of New Mexico. The Zia is like a symmetrical cross with an open circle in the middle. Each bar of the cross is formed by four smaller bars. They represent the seasons: summer, autumn, winter, spring. The four stages of life: birth, youth, adulthood, and death. The four directions: north, east, south, and west. And the four Elements: air, fire, earth, and water. 

Ten is a major sacred number, explained Art, and represents woman. Art says woman is to be revered as they give us life. According to Crow tradition and beliefs, there are ten moons of a woman’s pregnancy, from moment of conception to birth. The phases of the moon, Art explains, are 10 full moons per year and 2 months of the year without the visible moon. So the moon is like the Grandmother. The earth is to be revered like our Mother. And woman is to be loved and protected. 

During our conversation, I asked him twice, “What do you love?”  He laughed and with a little embarassment, he answered, “Women!” both times. He then became more serious and said that, yes, he does love women as they give us life. He also loves to help others. He truly loves time out in nature, meditating in the hills. I asked him if he fasts and yes, he used to fast a few days each week, but less now that he is older. I asked if he had any epiphanies or truth-revealing-dreams while out on his fasting meditations. He said, Yes, of course, at least 10 separate truths. 

I asked if he could share any of them. He politely responded that he shared them with his family for meditation purposes but these are sacred truths and...

I told him I understood and I wouldn’t ask him to share anything he felt was private and holy. 

I asked him if he knew any medicine men or shamans. He said that I needed to be careful because there were many “self-proclaimed” medicine men who boasted of things they knew little about. It is about the training. He was trained by his uncle, who was also trained by a medicine man, etc.  This has gone down through the generations. He does recite chants and utilizes herbs and understands the Crow way of life as he still lives it daily. I asked if he had trained anyone and he answered no, but he was adopting a “white girl” this August and he sometimes takes her on his meditation quests to the hills, so maybe she will be interested. 

Art described the Crow nation as a peaceloving, spiritual people. He described the blessings and beauty of Mother Earth and convincingly brought me to tears on a few of the things he shared. What a truly beautiful man. 

HD and I left the travel center and the moving experience with the Crow Holy Man. Now we were leaving Crow Territory and heading into Cheyenne Territory. The climb into the hills was beginning again. Several miles east on hwy 212, a cyclist traveling west crossed the road, pulled over to my side, and we struck up a conversation. This was Yung-Wei Chang. He is traveling solo from New York to San Diego, hitting the national parks in between, in a somewhat zigzag line. He had stayed in Belle Fourche, Broadus, and Lame Deer and was heading for Hardin---the same route I was taking, going in the other direction! From Hardin, he was heading for Yellowstone and then the Grand Canyon, so our paths were diverging.  

Yung-Wei Chang goes by “Light” Chang, a nickname he picked up in college. “Light” is from Taiwan  and he has an engineering degree.  He quit his job to take this dream journey of his and he plans to return to Taiwan when finished by the end of the summer.  

How did he get his nickname? When he was in college, he shaved his head. His friends teased him about his shiny globe of a head, and thus he was christened with the nickname “Light”. 

He said that the USA is “Beautiful!!” and this was a dream he has cherished for some time. He described Taiwan as a tiny island and he knows it well. So, he wanted to come to the USA to travel the distance and visit our parks. He has been camping in all sorts of places: some campgrounds, some roadside parks, some back yards. Occasionally someone invites him into their home. Light has a girlfriend back home and she told him to go get his dream journey completed before they talk about any future together. He loves her dearly and carries a little picture of her holding a big teddy bear. She looks about 10 in the photo, but maybe its a recent photo. Some folks just don’t age! 

He plans to do a formal proposal upon completion of the cycling trip and returning to Taiwan. He has a little camera with video capacity on it and he is creating a marriage proposal video. Basically, he asks people he meets on the road to tell his girlfriend, who goes by the nickname Meow-Meow (“Miau-Miau”?) to marry him. So I had the gleeful opportunity to advise his lovely fiance-to-be to marry Light Chang because he really loves her and he is a great guy. 

How fun was that???

In the late afternoon, early evening, I rolled into Lame Deer. This is a sizable town of 2000 in Cheyenne Territory and the only actual “town”.  Some of the businesses had closed down but they still had a functioning grocery store and convenience store/gas station. I stopped in there for coffee and to ask directions to the campground. I had called the internet listed campground on the phone that very morning and was told that the campground was in Lame Deer and I couldn’t miss it. But I didn’t see it, nor did I see any advertising or directional signs.  While I was getting my drink, a local resident came up to tell me he really liked my bike. This was “Jay”, or John by his ID. Jay seemed to have perhaps a mild disability but he was full of local information. He said they had 2 campgrounds in town and he would walk me to them. In the meantime, he continued to tell me he liked my bike. At least half a dozen times.

HD is kinda cute!

Jay knows everyone in town and the locals drove by, calling out to him, teasing him, and telling me to ignore any advice he may give. All in fun. Jay walked and I followed on HD to 2 spots near the highway with a few picnic benches. All primitive, no bathrooms. The first one had grass about waist high and since I had been “bugged” by stinging flies all day, I asked about the other one. The second one was another park area at the community craft center. There were 2 picnic benches, some old Cheyenne historical signs, and 2 broken down outhouses. But there was a working water faucet on the outside of the closed craft center. And there were plenty of bushes---who needs an outhouse? Or as Jay called them, Honey Buckets? The grass was mown so I pitched the tent and chatted with Jay for a bit and shared my dried kiwi with him. 

Jay told me a bit of the local history, both recorded and legend. The previous weekend had been the reenactment of the Battle of Little Bighorn--a big event for local residents as well as tourists. Also, there was a local horse race and the Cheyenne PowWow. Jay had helped run errands for some of the horse-related events and he was very proud of that. 

It is something I have noticed---gorgeous horseflesh in Montana. Big, beautiful, healthy horses, full of energy, curiosity, and vigor. This is a gorgeous time of year, with colts running in the fields and new calves gamboling about in the meadows. I saw so many pronghorn antelope and white tailed deer. All of these gorgeous, large animals are so curious and watch me go by. The cows and horses come up to the fences. The antelope, elk, and deer stand still and watch with interest before bounding several hundred feet away and watching me from a safer distance. Oh, Montana. Such a gorgeous place. Their state tourist motto is “Get Lost in Montana”. There are so many places to do just that!

Jay headed home around 7:30 pm and said he would stop by in the morning. I told him I would get him a cup of coffee at the convenience store, which is the local hangout. 

That evening, I read, did my exercises, and ate trailmix. 

The next morning, I waited for Jay until past the designated time and he did not show up, so I rode to the grocery store for supplies and then to the convenience store for coffee. At the grocery store, I gave the checkout lady the book I had finished the night before, as she liked to read. At the convenience store, after I drank my coffee, who should arrive but Jay himself? He said he slept in and so we went back inside and I got him his morning joe. 

In Lame Deer, the residents are quite friendly to visitors. Several people slowed down their cars or trucks to ask about the cycle and where I was going. A few people suggested I stay in town a few days. One man and his brother, who was paralyzed from a car accident, even stopped where I was camped to ask about the trip. Everyone gave me words of encouragement and blessings. Everyone was truly delightful and said I was welcome to camp anywhere. Within a short time of arrival, I felt like the whole town knew I was there. 

At the convenience store, I had noted on the day of arrival that there were notices in a stack on the checkout counter. All the local residents were encouraged to take one and “pass the word”. I read the notice. It was an exhortation to the Cheyenne to join together at the Sun Dance Ceremony for a special cleansing ceremony. A young local girl had committed suicide. According to Cheyenne law, when blood is spilled violently, either from a homicide or a suicide, there must be a cleansing ritual and prayers. So, the local Cheyenne were reminded of the law and the necessity for all to gather to participate. 

This was very powerful to me. When my own children were teenagers, there were kids in their school who had committed suicide.  One young man was a friend of the family. We had noticed a disparity among the residents depending on the identity of the teenager. The suicide of a popular child from a well-to-do family generated news stories, public outcry, and church prayer meetings. The death of an unknown caused nary a blip. This bothered my children quite a bit. As a mother watching her kids struggle through their developing years, I was often fearful of them taking their own lives as their emotions dipped and dived based on social acceptance, sense of success or failure, relationships, etc. 

But, what would happen if, every time a person was killed or caused their own death, the entire community gathered to do a cleansing ceremony, praying for the future of their tribe, and actively participating, as if the lost life was their own? Would this result in greater respect for life? A more aware acknowledgement of one’s valued place in the community? 

Also to be recognized is the lack of a class-based society. These people are generally poor, many unemployed and struggling. But they help each other and all are considered “family”. A death of violence is reason to gather and pray. Together. Not alone, but as a community. 

We have lost that community bonding. But we CAN get it back. We need leaders to bind us and a renewed idea of what it means to be part of a community. 

May it begin with you and me.