If you can read this and not feel touched, you have a heart of stone.

Or maybe you just don't understand life in an isolated, small village, or the fact that Native Americans (I have to use the term that I don't like in this case), even when they learn English, don't often speak it in accordance with the English rules of grammar...I understood this woman. And I shared her excitement.

I hope you can, too. Here's the link: http://www.oldcrow.ca/news.htm

Redstone

of trouble......

My dear Redstone, along you come with your stories and calm demeanor to remind me and all of us where the truth really lies......

In the lives and homes of good people like this lady.

I thank you for this....... :hug:

I'd like to meet and spend a day with that woman sometime.

Would be fascinating, wouldn't it? That village is about as close as you can get to the REAL middle of nowhere.

Redstone

It would help me to remember what the truly important things are .......

Funny what you can find out in the middle of nowhere......

:hug:

And I'd spend more time there if I could.

The places I've seen, because I am always driven and walked off the beaten path...some of my most treasured memories.

Redstone

I worked at an IHS hospital in Anchorage. Many of the patients there were adults when they learned English, and I know that slow responses meant that they were translating in their heads. Not to mention coming from a bush village into a city of 170,000 people was quite a shock for them.

We were taught to have patience with the elders. We also were to not make extended direct eye contact, as this was considered disrespectful.

appreciate it if I could quote you to the next honky who gives me a hard time because I don't look him in the eye when I'm talking. I wasn't raised that way, even though our parents didn't tell us we were Indians until we were teenagers.

I've asked about this on DU, and it does seem to be a pretty universal Indian thing, and you've just solidified my case by mentioning that it even extends to Natives way up North.

Redstone

It is the way of all the tribes up there.

I have noticed a lot of white people do not wish to honor societal characteristics other than their own, I try to be an exception.

the Eskimo, Aleuts, Haida and Tlingit also avoid eye contact. It's primarily cultural, and can be hard for us non-Natives to get used to. But the people I've met who live "out" are much like Mrs. Josie. It's fantastic to visit Minto, Eagle, Chicken and other primarily Alaska Native areas, just for the peace.

Thanks, Redstone, for reminding me.

Thanks for the perspective. :pals:

it would be you and Cal Peggy.

Many, many Americans would read that web page and dismiss that woman as being just some backwoods clod. But if you read it closely, and understand the context, it works better than CNN, yes?

Redstone

One of my best friends in NC is Native. She helps me to understand the nature of community being the center of life. Hard to imagine that some people believe white American culture is superior. :eyes:

And deeply appreciated by this DUer, darlin'.

:hug:


Thanks for sharing that, my friend.

Redstone

I don't really know what to say about that, except that it was really sweet and wonderful. What a beautiful, cool lady.

This woman is a lovely soul, who's simple words paint a beautiful picture. When I was in college, I began a love and fascination with Native culture, and have learned much, but of course, there is always more to learn. :hug:

Redstone

There's some good reading on the site, Pard. Thank you.

You can go exploring, and visit places you wouldn't have known about otherwise.

And allow me to tell you how good it is to see you around this place again, hoss.

Redstone

I was lucky in knowing the people of Lime Village, Alaska for a year. They were remote and lived mostly off the land, as I'm sure these people do.

I've never heard of Lime Village, so I'm off to Google to check it out.

Redstone

The Cold war was very much a real thing in 1968 and 1969.

The home of the 719th Aircraft Control and Warning Squadron
http://www.alsap.org/Sparrevohn/Sparrevohn.htm

The History of Lime Village
http://www.explorenorth.com/library/communities/alaska/bl-Lime.htm

I'm going to check further into that place later.

Tere was actually a DEW Line station built on a mountain near where I grew up in Vermont. After then closed it down, I hiked up there a few times in the 1970s; it was spooky going up a road that was better than the state highways and poking around the deserted radome (the AF took the equipment, but left the buildings).

Redstone

is supposedly just a weather station now. I don't know whether it is manned or not, but I'm tempted to make a few calls up there and find out.
Lime Village got all their mail in on our planes, so I'm sure the closing was a hardship on them, unless the weather people fly in and out. In the 60's there was one troop who'd served there who came back often to visit the tribe. His name was Bobby and most of the tribe had taken that as a last name to simplify their dealings with the government and to honor him. Whether he still visits I don't know.
It is an interesting place, though, and I'd love to visit there sometime.

ginbarn and I rented a car and took a day trip out of Las Vegas down Highway 93 into Arizona. That is one lonely stretch of highway - if your car poops out on the road, it doesn't matter if you have AAA Plus because your cell phone is worthless out there. You're just screwed.

We filled up the tank in Boulder City, Nevada just before driving over Hoover Dam and into Arizona for the trip down to Kingman. After driving through some lovely but desolate desert, we finally stumbled upon this one tiny little town just off of 93 called Dolan Springs, population 1,924. 70 miles south of Boulder City and 30 miles north of Kingman. We were fine on gas, but we needed food and supplies.

Dolan Springs has this little general store that is family-owned and looks like it was frozen in time some 30 years ago. It's a house that's been converted into a store, with sewn goods and thread in one room, cold drinks and snack cakes in another, and knick-knacks for the occasional tourist in the front of the store. I don't remember the name of the store, but if you take the road off of 93 into town, you'll see it on your left-hand side.

Anyway, ginbarn bought some stuff from the lady running the shop, and I grabbed some sodas and snacks. I fished around in my pocket and realized I had one of those Texas quarters and, since we're Texans passing through Arizona, I offered the quarter to the shopkeeper. It just made her day. She said she started collecting state quarters at some point but tapered off, but now that she had a Texas quarter, she was going to start up her state quarter collection again.

I think Rick Steves once said that this sort of interaction is what distinguishes a traveller from a tourist. Here, on the edge of nowhere in a little trading post in Dolan Springs, it was the little things that mattered to people.

And then came the next little secret in Dolan Springs. At a little restaurant up the road, there's a room just off from the service counter where people from all around the world signed their names and hometowns on the walls, the ceilings, the wainscotting, anywhere they could find room to write their names and hometowns. ginbarn and I felt honored to do likewise.

People still get it. As simple and esoteric as it sounds, we still have that ability to connect with each other on the most basic level. We must never forget this.

Because sometimes little things mean a lot.

There's still a lot of America out there, if only you'll take the time to look for it.

Redstone

We also wound up taking Route 66 out of Kingman up to the Grand Canyon, taking a little dirt path through Hualapai reservation territory that took us into the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Not many people take this route, but the scenery was just beautiful.

Plus, if you get out of the car and kill the engine, just listen. No planes. No engine noises. No generators in the distance. No sounds but the sounds of nature itself.

Bliss.

is so trivial, this was important to read. Kick and recommended!

thank you for sharing such a wonderful website.


bw925

Just curious

We're just as happy to be referred to as Indians, because we understand where that term came from. And it didn't have a damn thing to do with being mistaken for people who live in India, as the popular legend would have it.

Furthermore, if you subscribe to the Bering Land Bridge theory, it works out that sometime deep in the past, we're descended from people who lived in Siberia, and that means...Omigod, we're actually RUSSIANS!

(The above paragraph is just a joke. As you know.)

Redstone

Here, if you call a native an indian, you'll probably get your ass handed to you.

Indian to me suggests a person from India... *shrug*

that I don't mean the Hindu type. It works out OK.

Redstone

People would look at you funny, and/or deck you

Everywhere I've been, people seem to understand that they shouldn't ought to bother Breeds like myself.

Redstone

Specifically Winnipeg, MB. Highest urban native population per capita.
But also, all the other parts of the country i've visited or lived in have been the same in this respect.

doesn't canada have this designation on official paperwork.

just curious?

As well as Native American, and the government of Canada recognizes:
* Aboriginal people(s)
* First Peoples
* Indigenous people(s)
* Native people(s)
* Native American

Can you briefly tell me where it came from or point me to a source that can.
And thanks for the link, delightful reading.

for the last six years prefers to use First Nations, rather than Native American or Indian as her affiliation.

that prefer: Aboriginal, First Nations, Native American, Indigenous Canadian
In my experience, at least.
First Nations and Native American are the two most commonly used an accepted.

American Indian points out moron Columbus's mistake.

Not entirely true. Many animals and plants that are not native reproduce in North America and we don't consider, say, the elephant to be native.
Native CAN have that meaning, it CAN also mean indigenous (which is the more commonly used definition)

Thanks for sharing this, Redstone. Simple pleasures are life's greatest pleasures.

:hi:

That sounds like a happenin' little place! Thanks for sharing :hi:

And learn what I can from them.

very touched.

Apart from everything else this is the only news I've read in a long time that were only good. I don't even know when was the last time I met anybody with such a trusting, optimistic outlook. A lady I'd very much like to meet in person.

---------------

Remember Fallujah

Bush to The Hague!

Thanks Redstone. That is wonderful.

Porcupine River Sausage
Submitted by: Darius Elias

Amount Ingredient
1 Moose intestine
Caribou meat.
Potatoes.
Carrots.
Onions.
Turnips.
Salt.
Pepper.
River water.

My uncles and I harvested a moose and some caribou in the fall of 1999 along the Porcupine River near Salmon Cache and I remembered a recipe that my dad showed me one time.

I took the intestine from the rump of the moose. It's about 2.5 feet long and is like sausage casings. I then cleaned it out real good in the river and turned it inside out so the fat was on the inside. To do this I slid a willow through the intestine, tied the end of the willow to the end of the intestine, and pulled it through. Then I cut the intestine in half because it ended up to be too long to make just one. I then tied one end of each of the two moose intestines with twine.

I then cut up small pieces of potatoes, carrots, onions, turnips and some caribou meat and mixed it all together with salt and pepper and stuffed the vegetables and meat inside the two intestines pieces. I added some river water and then tied the other ends off.

We were going to go further up river to look for more caribou so I wrapped both of the stuffed moose intestines in tin foil and buried them under our campfire a couple inches under the soil. I then placed lots of coals on top. When we came back some hours later I dug up the tin foil wraps and they were still hot. I was careful not to get dirt on the stuffed intestine. It was cooked perfect.

I cut up some on my plate with salt and some HP sauce for dipping. Sure hit the spot after a long days hunt!

If you do this recipe in your own kitchen at home you could use fancier vegetables and seasonings, but if you're on the banks of the Porcupine hunting you can't take all the fancy ingredients or your uncles are gonna say "Hey we got too much stuff!"

or shot in the surrounding mountains. Dog Salmon, Grayling, and Dolly Varden abounded. In season, we hunted Ptarmigan and Spruce Hen. Except for the isolation and cold it was a good year.

And of course grayling, being an Arctic char, must taste like Vermont Lake Trout (which are not trout, but related to Arctic char), and I know how good THOSE are.

Had yourself some damn tasty fish, didn't you?

Redstone

That woman is adorable. What a beautiful, joyous face she has.

she has a simply eloquent way of expressing her heart that transcends any language. She muat be the very soul of an elegant lady.

...not so much touched as hungry for caribou jerky.

Manhattan, Iraq, Nigeria, Kazakhstan, Antarctica, every place on earth...and a pox on those who prevent everyday people from enjoying everyday pleasures.

I got in touch with the webmistress of that site; I thought she might like to know where the increased traffic over the last days came from, and wanted her to relay to Miss Josie how much her words were enjoyed and appreciated by so many DUers.

It turns out the she's the great-grandniece of the Miss Josie, and stayed in that village to run the tribe's website out of a sense of duty to her community, rather than moving to the "big city" where her computer skills would have paid her much more...

I absolutely MUST go vist that place, and those people.

Redstone