It's Our Turn Now
It was a bitterly cold week-end. When I got up this morning, my thermometer said -45 degrees. I wouldn't have taken my car out in this cold, except that I didn't want the kids waiting at the bus stop. Jamie had left his boots at school, Iris and Alan don't even own a pair of warm boots (they refuse to wear them) and the boys couldn't even find their hats this morning, so I decided it was best for me to do the multiple school run.
There was so much ice fog downtown I could hardly see where I was going. In fact, I drove right past my work because I couldn't see the building!
Good-bye to Archie
A friend of ours passed away last week, and the funeral and feast was on Saturday. Joe was asked to be kitchen helper, and for two days he worked like a mad man - shopping for groceries enough to feed 400 people, baking salmon, cooking meat, hauling 75 pound vats of soup, etc.
At any first nations' feast, as was the case here, the family sets up a big bowl, and anyone who wishes can put money in the bowl to help pay the people who worked at the funeral (pallbearers, people who dressed the body, the kitchen help, etc.). When you put money in the pot, they bang a drum, and call out your name and announce how much you gave. It's something that still embarrasses me, no matter how many times I attend these things...so very different from how we give money in our own culture.
Then at the end of the evening, the money is divided up for the workers, the family stands up at the front of the room, and calls each helper up one at a time. The helpers must then do a traditional dance for their money. Joe said he was so tired by that point, he didn't have the energy to be embarrassed, and his dance got lots of whoops and cheers from the crowd.
I think the idea behind the dancing is that the family has been in mourning all week, and now it's time for friends and family to make them laugh by dancing. Also, I can't think of any better way of sending a person off on their journey into the next realm.
9:52:24 AM 
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