It's ceremony season, where we pull all nighters, sharing our lineage and connections and there's no shortage of connecting, corrections and celebrations this winter. It is full on & especially since we have lost years to make up for.  Friday night I was in cultural ceremony in Mitoonie for my niece, (5 hours from home) when my brother called inviting  me to attend this Keitlah ceremony with him the next day in our home village. So like the crazy lady I am, drove from one ceremony on one end of the island to another ceremony on the other end of the island with little sleep or time for rest. 

I arrived down the main dock in Tofino with my late sister's best friend Jolene (Klaakishwiyaaaqsa) who was hosting ceremony. The ceremony started off with a blessing & a name change for Jolene (Klaakishwiyaaaqsa)  who had recently had gone through a dance of realms or what other's call a 'close call' or a death.  For us, we call this a Celebraton Of Life, (which I believe maamaalee refer to as a funeral). We call it a second chance at life and a reminder that our work here in this human realm is not done This is normally followed up with what we call a 'cleanse'. Klaakishwiyaaaqsa, Jolene and my late sister were best friends and her late sister & I were best friends. So though we both lost our sister's, in some strange way, every time I see her, it's kind of like seeing my sister.  

Mom and daughter embrace after blessing and what a blessing to have a second chance at life! 

Men were called up and acknowledged for rescuing her when she had her close call.  

Isn't that so beautiful, our people constantly put their lives at risk and in danger to save other's and not just our own village members but often other non Indigneous as well on the ocean. 

Even more beautiful that the men in our home village, they're not shy to share, emotions, to express feelings. To say, "I love you, you matter" or t0 get up and speak from one's heart with no fear which has been modelled for generations and generations. Thankfully. 

The next part of ceremony was what we call, ʕiictuuła. A blood ceremony, a celebration for when a young girl becomes a women. This one was different than other ʕiictuuła's because this is chief's (hawailth) daughter. Though I was granted permission to document this part of ceremony. I did not. It was dark & I did not want to add light & if I'm being honest, I was scared. It took me back to childhood as it's a very rare ceremony. I left the sacred to to sacred. 

But as I sat next to my uncle who is like a father to me, Ahousaht Tyee Hawilth Maquinna, I felt the power of this ceremony and thought of all our ancestors who also hid this ritual. Which made and makes me wonder, about the time and tradition & these unspoken rituals

what actually became hidden due to religion? Did we hide this pre Jesus? I think not. So again, it just makes me wonder, what were these ceremonies like before sins and religion felt so threatened by our connection to one another & nature? 

Regardless, it was powerful. 

ʕiictuuła (again, ceremony when a girl becomes a women pronounced iitstultha). It's a big thing. HUGE. Especially because we are matriarchal people. Women are sacred and highly respected and powerful because we are the only one's who can give life. She has and will have guardians for the rest of life, both men and women to guide her and protect her. 

(Pretty big jobs!)

A part of the ʕiictuuła is the washing of her feet and not just by anyone. By our highest. Our chief. Ahousaht Tyee Hawilth Maquinna

This is a reminder of how sacred women are. That a chief will strip himself of his 'regalia', his power, and lower himself to her in honour of her transition as she comes into HER power. In these moments you can feel silence and you can witness presence. Which also today feels very rare. But wow. What an honour to not only capture but share with permission. 

We are beautiFUL beings. Seriously, we're such givers, helpers and supporters. Despite having everything taken from us, we're still givers. Which just blows my mind, especially because I work in documenting all the systemic battles. I wonder, how can anyone be at war with such givers & beautiful spirits? How?! To feel fear of our giving and our natural nature of nurture. 

We have next to nothing and what we do have? We give. We share. We help. Often when someone is hosting ceremony and someone might only have $20 to their name. They'll gift the whole $20 to help and without a second thought. Could you imagine maamaalee, I only have $1,000 or $10,000 but here let me give it all to help someone in need. Again, mind blowing how giving we are. 

Here (below) we have what are called paid witnesses. It is their job to remember this FOREVER.  The ceremony. The traditional names. The events of the evening - day. 

So while ceremony is in full swing, there's a kitchen crew that's been working for days. UNPAID. This is their job. They sacrifice their time, energy AND the ceremony to feed the village. This image below is one of my best friend's since teen years, Mugz Keitlah, we probably never even knew we were so closely related as we were always very close friend's.

It may not look it here, but it is complete organized chaos, everyone just does what needs to be done. 

No schedules. No roles. Nothing burnt. Nothing forgotten. 

Again, it just amazes me. No one ever knows how many people will show up to potlatch. There are no dinner reservations. Yet there is always enough food. Again mostly gifted. Not every village has this like my home village, thanks to colonization, BUT every village once had this too! 

So ceremony continues. Parents hold their new daughter who is now a women. 

No more little girl. It's women to women.  

One day, when a man comes for his daughter, because she comes from royalty, that will be a whole other huge ceremony (and a whole other blog).  

We have a word for what this called, men blanketed at ceremony with $. I thought it sounded like maamaalee, but a different word was used, I can't remember it, but they are security and to keep the crowd quiet. Long ago, they used to pull people up to the front of the curtain for being disrespectful and families would have to stand & claim AND pay to correct such behaviour of their member who was disrespectful. Whew, thankfully I myself was not allowed to sit near certain beings back then or my family would have been paying away. 

Keithlah's (hosts last names). Hayupinuł late father used to make me call him uncle and he would always explain over and over how he was my uncle. Thankful these connections have passed down to Hayupinuł & I and that's one of my many brother's in the middle & yes I"m related to everyone, actually not just me, everyone is related or connected to everyone! 

We're village people. 

 

Matilda (below) comes from Keitlah's (hosts) and she led her family's welcome dance & did amazing! Some people think we've lost our culture. In my village, it's strong, strict, stubborn but sustainable, even if we have different family ways that sometimes can get in the way. Families have different ways of doing everything, not just culture and even then, two people can grow up in the same home - same family and have different experiences and memories of such teachings! That's pretty important to remember and to make space for everyone while still being teachable and not being a just a stubborn teacher. Our culture has evolved and will continue to whether we want it to or not. And reality is, we're all making mistakes, correcting them and learning along the way. 

When the hoopakwinim (treasure chest) has been handed down for generations, oh my gosh! The emotions. The connections. The grief. The pride. The remembering.  The ancestors and what they hid and fought to keep this.  This hoopakwinim (treasure chest) was a HUGE gift and moment.  Again imagine gifting your most prized possession.  I can only imagine for maamaalee, it'd be like gifting a house (which we gift houses too just that we do it while alive). The complete detachment and free release.All in the name of giving & to pass it on to where it belongs next.

This hoopakwinim will hold all her sacred treasures until one day she too will pass it on to her great- great grandchildren.  

During ceremony, people wait (sometimes all night) for their turn to present, for their turn to help, for their turn to gift. I remember when this gift was given to my uncle from the Sikh's.  This then from the Sikh's to my uncle was itself its own ceremony as well. We brown beings are ceremonial people. Everything is ceremony!  Imagine the Sikh's coming to make ceremony for something from 1870's?! (In somatic therapy there's a saying that I spam my family & friend's with almost daily, Time Does Not Heal, Experience Does)

IF only we could teach maamaalee & all their systems, gov, religion and rcmp such experiences. Believe me, we've been trying and it's exhausting. 

The history of this treasure that also travelled through time was shared between different cultures when our people saved and returned something that did not belong to us. Again, not to compare, but imagine maamaalee (back then or now) finding a whole floating treasure and returning it without being asked or told. The treasure was returned and a reward was offered. The chief (then) only wanted this sword. Again from 1870 ish! Imagine again, making something right, paying off a long overdue debt like this? I think I want to be friend's with these Sikh's. 

This sword, monumental value was gifted from Ahousaht Tyee Hawilth Maquinna, to ƛakišwaya Hawilth, John Keitlah. Things like this might not hold value in a white man world but then again, our definitions of wealth are completely opposite and our worth is not defined by any means by white man or by the delusion of any dollars. Our worth is village, connection, correction and ceremony. 

This WAS HUGE gift and moment. My uncle was very aware and did not want to take away from the ʕiictuuła (coming of age women ceremony). But, to me and I am pretty sure to everyone else, it did not take away. 

It added PURE joy.  

Joy that made you dance and everyone else clap.

A joy that added to their hoopakwinim box of treasures.

A joy that can only come from giving, from receiving, from sharing!  

So did this presentation take anything away? Nope, it gave, it added, it lifted! 

It is NOT easy to be chief (hawailth). Pre Jesus days, chiefs, hawailth were groomed from a very young age how to carry themselves and their entire village. It was a lot of training, teaching and discipline. So to be in such a space we are today, thanks to racist maamaalee patriarchal systems that left their trail of trauma through those concentration camps they called schools, plus through religion, plus through rcmp, plus a so called g0vern-ment that's been trying to kill the Indian and save the man for how many years? 

Without the ancestral training & enough modelling from solid safe men who respect & protect women, children & other boys, without enough solid and safe men teaching holding other men accountable, it's quite understandable to simply surrender to the pain of not only yourself but also your father's and your grandfather's that was passed on through 'time'. To simply to be a regular man in today's society is challenging enough, never mind a Hereditary Hawaitlh - Chief whose culture goes against the 'patriarchal norms'. Their whole system from day ONE is built on the suppression of women globally. Their system taught men to remain wounded and harm others, which many men (globally and locally) learnt very well, again thanks to g0v. Pay close attention to patterns. HiZ-STORY always repeats. 

So I will never bash any Hawailth Chief EVER, it's the white man system that removed us from our roles and responsibilities, that was and still IS their intention. So I stand, sit and fight for my people. I will always advocate for and with them. Often people (maamaalee and even our own people) will want to judge. I like to remind people to be soft on people and hard on systems and I am very hard on systems and anyone who consciously or unconsciously holds up such sick system (through fragility, silence & blind obedience). 

Anyways, I am proud of him, I myself have only ever known him to be a very quiet, respectful & humble being, who yes has his struggles like we all do, so for him to host ceremony , while hurting , WAS HEALING. For everyone. 

I have worked in healing all my adult life in one way shape or form and am obsessed with it so I am constantly reading, studying, listening and surrounding myself in healing energy, which requires leaning into pain. One of my fav therapists, and a man who constantly stands up for Indigenous people publicly , Gabor Mate, always shares this (paraphrasing) : 

The difference between maamaalee (white) trauma and Indigenous trauma is maamaalee (white folks) isolate, suppress & keep their pain a secret & they pretend to be ok when they're not. While Indigenous people not only share their pain with a village -community but they (we) make pain public & create ceremony with it. One hides, isolates and keeps their pain secret (maamaalee). Another shares their pain with others, no secret, no hiding pain & it's worn like a badge, without shame (that's us)

We may be deeply wounded, but at least we're wounded together. 

Those moments where wealth isn't fought over, it's given & shared.  Those spaces where differences are put down & sameness is picked up. Those times when helping others is choosen over personal pain. Those moments when personal pain is publicly displayed for collective healing. Those moments where fighting for each other over fighting with each other.

Powerful moments. 

Those evenings when the wolves meet us in the dark to protect & remind us of ancestral ways. Those rare moments when Ahousaht Tyee Hawilth Maquinna humbles himself through the birth of the newest women.  How beautiful that when we quu-us witness such humility (hawailth or not), when we witness the removal of all the regalia,  the removal of all the masks, titles, guards and protection, we see someone the same as us which raises our collective healing. 

Those historical moments where chiefly treasures travel through time and are gifted with ancestral reminders or roles & responsibility's and received with so much gratitude that for a moment, all the guards are down, there is no fear, no judgement and only an overwhelming feeling of LOVE in the whole room that tears of joy stream through the song.

That gesture, that gift, which was really that LOVE, it lifted everyone off their feet & again, no fear of being Indian, no fear of being not being Indian enough & no fear of judgement or what anyone was thinking, without that FEAR, all one can do with such big energy is DANCE & your dance is contagious, the tears were contagious and the LOVE was contagious!

Witnessing and feeling that energy, that LOVE, that gift, that gratitude, was ALL contagious. May we all remember what that feels like when we're seen, when we're accepted, when we're equal, when we give, when we're lifted & when our hearts are so full that it pours out of our eyes, just like iyatumakwa here. 
 

May we all remember that, when fear leaves and love enters ... that's ceremony. 

ʕaaḥuusʔatḥ  ❤️

I rarely share any more for soooooo many reasons so enjoy this rare amateur video share of our culture & this ceremony with this link : 

              https://youtu.be/IFQgLUYqCtQ           

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