| Subject: What does it mean to be Navajo.... |
Author:
rustywire
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Date Posted: 15:29:16 03/12/01 Mon
Author Host/IP: 161.217.72.50
I am not sure how to answer your question... I think for some it is the taste of coffee grounds at the bottom of a cup while resting against a post inside a cha-oo ( shadehouse) and watching the smoke from a cedar fire slowly make its way up and across a sheep camp
for others it is the quiet of a Sunday morning lying half on and half off a bed next to your Mom who is reading a worn book. You lay there and study each line of her face and remember that she is soft and you can just lay there and not say anything, while she talks about what her hopes and dreams are for you, to study hard, to treat others with respect, to listen to your elders and that your life might be better than hers...
and again it is the young man, a teenager with bushy hair who gets a chance to ride around the housing area, not knowing where they are going or why but just getting a chance to hang out, getting to ride around and waste gas with a friend talking about nothing really just enjoying the day on the rez...
and then it is the man in old clothes going about his job quietly at work not speaking much but is more talkative at home with his children spinning tales about monster birds, and the old Gallup Ceremonial, about squaw dances and yei-be-che's, about places way on the other side of the mountain and his eyes come to life and he talks about the stories of his youth and his laugh is loud and full of life when he remembers the foolish things of a boy...
for others it is the sound of hearing it spoken, the sound of it....Navajo...a language, of sitting at a cafe, or gas station, in the pawn shop, or trading post or maybe at home after eating talking about what is going on in the chapter or their life, or with an aunt or uncle. Listening and asking what is that word...and hearing them laugh when you say something that doesn't come out right and they tell you gently and kindly this is how you say it...
and then for some it is longing to have known a little about your family or friends and how they talked, to wonder how did I come to be and where is it I came from and longing to know how to say something and not being able to say it right or not to be able to say it at all cuz no one was around to teach you and you feel that you should have known these things...
for others it is looking in the mirror at how you look, the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the color of your hair and to feel you cheekbones, to see your mother, or father or your grandmother in yourself as you look into your eyes...wondering where will I go and what will I be...
or is it to see your certificate of Indian blood with your name on it or your family card and wondering why your name is on it or maybe because you you don't have one, and wondering about how you got your census number...
and maybe it is being online talking but yet not talking on a borrowed keyboard seeking something on yourself, a place where you feel at home where you have shared maybe the same hopes, dreams, wishes and life, to know a little about the struggles of growing up...wanting a better life, seeking a good heart among your own people...and yet remain apart like at home...your neighbor is just over there, but it is way over there....maybe it is a little of all of this....
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