Métis Culture 101

The following is a sidebar to my previous post about Metisfest. I threw in the Youtube tune so you can listen to a nice Metis march while you read.
  • Copote: Traditional outerwear made from a Hudson Bay blanket, secured with a woven sash.
  • Infinity flag: The Métis national flag, featuring a white infinity symbol usually on a blue field.
  • Metchif: Métis language spoken widely by North Dakota’s Turtle Mountain tribe. “Our verbs are Cree, our nouns are French,” says Goodon.
  • Pemmican: Meat (buffalo, deer, elk) dried with berries. Made and sold by Métis to other Voyageurs and explorers, Pemmican was portable and prevented scurvy.
  • Red River cart: Wooden ox or horse cart used by early Métis to haul trade goods.
  • Voyageur: French for traveler, voyageurs were fur traders who traveled by canoe.

Métisfest Celebrates “Children of the Fur Traders”

[This article appeared originally in the August 2011 issue of Prairie Independent]

North Dakota has several well-known festivals observing our cultural heritage–like the United Tribes Pow Wow or the Norsk Høstfest. But there’s one annual event you may not have heard of, and it’s already drawing more than 10,000 each August to the International Peace Garden near Dunseith.

Now in its third year, the International Métisfest celebrates the region’s Métis people–descendents of Europeans and Native Americans.

“We’re the children of the fur traders,” says Dan Goodon, Métisfest organizer. The first Métis were born to French, Scottish, or English fathers and Cree, Ojibwa, or Assinboine mothers in the 18th century. Today, Canada’s National Statistics Agency reports about 400,000 Métis can be found throughout that country, while closer to home, Goodon estimates 90% of North Dakota’s Turtle Mountain tribe are descended from Métis.

Here’s a video snatched off Youtube from the 2009 gathering…

The festival highlights the fiddle and step dance of the culture on three stages throughout the weekend. A rendezvous village, voyageur games, and music contests will also take place.
Cultural workshops will explore traditional Metchif language, sash weaving, Red River carts, dance, and beading.

Goodon says the festival, though only a couple years old, has already become important to local communities. He tells stories of long-separated cousins from across the border finding one another at the event and says the weekend feels like a family reunion for many.

At the same time, he encourages people of any background to attend. “This is all about preserving and sharing our culture,” he says.

Of course, the best cultural experiences start with food. Ask Goodon whether Métis have good cuisine, and he’ll tell you: “You betcha, and you’ll get some of it if you come up here.”

Métisfest is held August 26-28, 2011 at the International Peace Garden on the U.S.-Canada border near Dunseith, ND. Tickets are $10 for the three-day weekend and include admission to events, trading post, games, rendezvous village, and workshops.

Tickets for nightly concerts featuring fiddler Ryan Keplin (Friday) and country singer Patricia Conroy (Saturday) are sold separately. Camping is available at the Peace Garden. To enter the Peace Garden, no passport is necessary; however, some form of photo identification is required to re-enter the United States.

North Dakota safety net

All photos taken Sept. 17 and 18, 2010, Mandan, N.D.

Arthur Link 1914-2010

When I moved to Bismarck, ND,  in February, I looked forward to two things especially: Seeing the northern lights and meeting Art Link at least once.

Link was former governor and the subject of the documentary When the Landscape is Quiet Again. He’s remembered in that film for his firm environmentalism at a time when many thought North Dakota ought to be “sacrificed” for the benefit of the rest of the country during the 1970s oil crisis.

He also played the fiddle. Redwing, usually.

Unfortunately, he died Tuesday, at the age of 96. There will be a procession and viewing tomorrow (Friday) at the State Capitol here in Bismarck.

He seemed like a good man, and I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him. This is my Bismarck Stories blog tribute to Governor Link:

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Hank at the Fort Lincoln Internment Camp

Fort Lincoln is now part of the campus of the United Tribes Technical College in Bismarck. But over Memorial Day, the school hosted a different kind of alumni…former prisoners and families of prisoners from when Fort Lincoln served as a War Relocation Camp during WWII. The weekend conference was open to the public, so we went over to take the afternoon tour of the old facilities.

To my surprise, very few “public” were there. To my delight, that meant we were surrounded by these alumni and family and had them mostly to ourselves.

This is Hank Naito. He’s 84 and lives in Hawaii.  When he was 18 he was taken from his home in Los Angeles and put in this North Dakota camp. He introduced himself to my 14-year-old son, and said, “Remember me in 20 years.”

I asked how it felt returning. ”Well, it’s good memories and bad,” he said.

Barracks of old internment camp, now United Tribes dorms

My son asked if Hank had his citizenship papers before he was sent to Fort Lincoln. We quickly explained that Hank was born here, didn’t require any more papers than my son did.

He walked with us, and explained that America can be a good place and a bad place. He explained why he didn’t stay angry. He told how he made a life for himself after the war, starting with a tour in the Air Force, fighting in Korea. He explained that there was more to the internment than suspicion of Japanese Americans–how certain people were especially interested in taking the farm lands the Japanese Americans had improved in the San Joaquin valley.

He told us more stories of his life, then and now, and then he said it to my son again. “Remember me in 20 years.”

I took a picture to make sure of it.

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Paul Maloney, Bean Artist

I’m not much into exotic art. But take something exotic and add a local element, and I’m there. In fact, I was the only one there yesterday –in the Great Hall at the State Capitol where Paul Maloney has just started a bean mural.

Inspired by the sand Mandala’s of Buddhist Monks,  Maloney creates temporary murals from North Dakota farm products–beans and some grains. He’s creating a field scene with a rising sun and a woman spreading seeds…well, here, here’s the sketch:

The biggest problem with creating this thing? It’s not getting permission to camp out on the floor of the State Capitol. The State Treasury Secretary and  North Dakota Right to Life sponsored the project–which means they secured permission and insurance.

“North Dakota is probably the only state where I could get away with doing something like this in the state capitol,” says Maloney who lives just across the river in Mandan, ND.

Rather, the biggest problem in creating the mural is finding blue.  Maloney says he needs blue flint corn for the sky, and you can’t find any right now in North Dakota. So, he’ll have to adjust his pallette to make it work.

He expects to be done with the mural on Wednesday and will sweep it away on April 9th.

Then he’s got the problem of disposal. Buddhist Monks put the sand from their Mandala’s into a river. It’s an important part of the ritual. When Maloney did a similar project 4 years ago, he checked with some Monks and they said it would be okay if he donated the beans to a charity to be used for soup.

Moving water–kind of the same thing they thought.

Detail

Peggy Lee comes home

In a comment under my last post, Jim Z. wrote:

When Lawrence Welk left N.D., he NEVER came back. It’s been said he hated everything about North Dakota. But visiting his birthplace is a real trip, so I’ve heard. L.W. wouldn’t have known… because he never visited!

The ungrateful oaf.

But some people came back: Peggy Lee returned in 1950. And she brought Stanley Kubrick with her. They say you can see Kubrick on the corner in this recently digitized 1950 video from Valley City:

Searching for Becky Fischer

One Sunday, on a visit to North Dakota, I finally saw Jesus Camp, the documentary so many of my friends were up in arms about. Most described it as the “scariest movie” they’d ever seen.

If you’re not hip to it, Jesus Camp is a documentary about a charismatic 3rd-generation Pentacostal minister, Becky Fischer, and her ministry to children. Her kids, most under 13, evangelize, writhe on the floor, speak in tongues, and weep.

You can look at YouTube to see clips from the movie. Then look at the comments and see the kind of hatred and even threats she brings out in people who believe themselves her moral superiors. But that’s not what I want to talk about.

Without knowing it, I watched the movie just a few miles from Becky’s current church. Scenes in the movie looked like the scenery just outside my window. And after a little online research, we learned she’d just bought an old building nearby to convert to her church. Not just any old building, but a Knight’s of Columbus hall cured in tobacco smoke.

Fraternal clubs, says my father, more or less declined with the rise of televised sports. I’ve asked around and every man I know old enough to remember a world populated by Elks, Moose, Knights of Pythias, and Masons agrees with Dad.

So what to do with these old buildings? Most come with a dance floor. A kitchen. A stage. And plenty of floor space. Becky says that’s a perfect combination for a small church.

For me, Becky’s church perfectly combined three of my favorite enthusiasms: old buildings,  new urbanist ideas, and religion. So I drove over to her new/old building to gawk.

The open side door was completely covered in dust, except where a finger had scraped out the words “Jonestown” and “Koresh.” People of construction worked inside, seemingly missing the indictment on the door.

One of them invited us in, and let us look around. Told us people were working downstairs, but upstairs was empty.

So we went up, first. The building has few of its original features: Glass brick windows, chrome stair rails, and, well, that’s about it. It’s been used and reused so many times, not much of architectual interest remains.

Next, we went down.

Becky greeted us. Yes, that Becky. She was in the middle of 6 different things, but seemed eager to talk about her renovation. She envisioned a rec room, pool tables, foosball, and such for the kids. Downstairs, a church and a coffeeshop/bookstore area.

I asked: Now that she bought the old building and started finding out what it would take to repair, did she have any regrets? (No). Since this downtown had so many abandoned buildings, did she see herself someday growing into some of the others? (Let’s get this project done. But the Carnegie library would be a great place for my publishing company.)

Okay. I lied. I do want to talk about the movie. Not to Becky. To you.

I didn’t see Becky as a child abuser or brainwasher. I thought of her as a member of a culture very different from my own. That’s kind of how I think of all Evangelicals, even the ones in my family.

As such, I’d extend to Becky the same tolerance, curiosity, and even celebration of differences I’d extend to Native Americans, Amish, Mormons, Jews, and Muslims.

And here’s my experience: Almost every god-centric person I’ve treated that way seems to treat me the same. Even Becky Fischer.

But I worry about her.

Seriously, go read the threats on the YouTube videos. All that nastiness from people she never met–it’s much scarier than the movie. And then she lets me, a complete stranger, wander around her building alone.

That’s some extraordinary faith!

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