Day 2 (July 23) of the Powwow was so hectic and busy that I was too tired to do anything but fall asleep when I got home. More Germans showed up that day, and some folks from Japan, Denmark and other exotic places. We always post a wall-size map of the US where folks can color in the state they are from. The entire Lower 48 was colored in last time I looked, sometime on Day 2, except Mississippi, Rhode Island, and a couple other states. Folks had drawn in representations of their homelands overseas, E. Timor, Canada and Afghanistan, besides Japan and Denmark. Next to the huge US Map we posted a large drawing of the state of Alaska. Alaska is two and a half times the size of Texas. Stop and try to get your head around that--it's almost too big to be able to imagine. Why mapmakers have to put it off to the side in a little box next to Hawaii, as if they were similar in size, I don't know. This is probably why most folks don't realize that Alaska is the biggest state in the union.
Be that as it may (phhhht! to all you Texans who think your state is so big) we needed a big Alaska map so all the folks from different villages and other parts of the state could put pins in their hometowns.
I picked up my friend Skyeler Sunday morning, the last day of the powwow. He'd actually asked for time off so he could help me out that day. I needed a break, that's for certain. The weather on Day 2 was muggy and extremely hot. If it hadn't been for the shade of my booth, I'd have had heat stroke. Even so, I sat down and put my feet up when I could.
At the end of the day a couple guys showed up just as folks were leaving the grounds. The set up in the tent, two guitars, and started playing good old country music, Ernest Tubb, Hank Williams, and others. Scott and I had a ball two-steppin'. It was a very enjoyable way to end the day. I spoke at length with the main singer, Frank Jerue. They have a third member, Katie, who couldn't come with them, but they are from Anchorage and I'll have them back up for a fund-raising dance next year. Great folks! He played an old, vintage Jazzmaster, so we had to stand and talk Fender guitars for a while.
With Skyeler helping, I could now get away a little bit and see more dancing, do some dancing, and check out the other booths. There were two food booths (I don't count cotton candy as a food), one with all sorts of hamburgers, burritos and such, and the other with game meat. Both were pretty great. The buffalo bratwurst was the best I think I've ever had, and I got great reports on their other sausages and meats (reindeer, moose and others).
At about 2:45 on Day 3, we released a rehabilitated eagle that was brought to the powwow by the Bird Treatment and Learning Center in Anchorage. Excitement rippled through us at nine that morning, when the truck bearing two draped crates pulled into the powwow grounds. The eagle's here, the eagle's here echoed around the circle from many hushed voices.
At 2:30 folks started gathering at the far end of the field, around the big crate. The wooden box had holes drilled in the sides, but only enough for air. We could not see the eagle, and it could not see us. David Salmon, traditional chief of the Athabaskan people, on whose land the powwow is held, spoke to the eagle, and to us, prayed with us, and with the eagle. Several other representatives of both the Athabaskan and Tlingit tribes (Raven and Eagle clans) likewise spoke. The Tlingits sang a song for the bird. David Salmon said that the bird should fly north, that that would be the most auspicious direction for him to go. All this took about forty minutes. We were all sweating in the sun. No one was talking, everyone was still. The top of the box was raised and the bald eagle burst into the sky! He circled us four times, as if acknowledging us and the four directions, and then took off toward the north. He then circled around again (no doubt getting his bearings) and disappeared into the distance and the trees.
Later, Scott showed up and I took him dancing in the circle. We did the Indian two-step and got thoroughly out of breath in the process. I dance a crow-hop, my favorite. We browsed the booths and got two plates of fry bread, something I miss from New Mexico. It sure tasted great! It was funny to have people asking me what it was!
Skyeler was watching the booth as the chairman of the powwow, Bob, handed me a blanket of money. The blanket dance had just been performed, where we carry a blanket around while the drums play, and the audience throws money in the blanket to be given to the drummers and singers. Bob said, "Go count this, would you, Jean?" So off I went, despite looming, dark clouds in the north, to the security tent to count out the money and divide it into four piles for the four different drum groups.
I got it all counted but was very nervous the whole time because I knew I had to get my booth broken down and my stuff under cover before that storm hit. I could hear the wind picking up. I counted as fast as I could. I was starting to divide it when someone else finally showed up to whom I could pass the job, and I ran out of the security tent through rain and wind to help Scott and Skyeler load up. Scott went to retrieve the truck, and Skyeler had already closed all the boxes, but if I hadn't arrived when I did, everything would have been a big, soggy mess. Try packing away a sopping tent sometime. It's a real pain.
Just as we got everything stashed in the truck, the skies stopped their sporadic sprinkling and busted open. We slung ourselves into the truck and Scott started trotting back to the parking lot to get his vehicle. We planned to meet at a local eaterie and chow down.
Except one thing. Scott still had my keys in his pocket.
After a minute or two of frustrated yelling, and having the wind whip the words out of my mouth and away away, I turn to Skyeler (who is only 20 and a great kid) and said, "Run like hell and catch him!" Luckily he could, and did, and he returned wet but with the truck keys, thank goodness!
At the restaurant we talked about the day and relaxed. It was a great powwow. I can't wait for the next one.