Update from Spirit of our Youth – Sweatlodge
We drove down the through the tall trees, the narrow dirt road opened up into a small welcoming meadow. The little field was surrounded by spruce, willow and poplar trees with tall grass just below our knees. It was peaceful and inviting, the air seemed fresher out here! I noticed how quiet it was, save for the singing birds that welcomed us to their area. I immediately liked the ceremony grounds which were more private than our usual sweatlodge within the city limits. It was beautiful.
The elder greeted me with a handshake; we smudged and prepared ourselves for the coming day. The dried wood was split and laid flat on the ground; rocks were neatly piled on top of the wood. The elder, Bob, took a handful of tobacco and raised his hand into the air he approached the pile of wood and rocks and said a prayer. Once he was done praying he sprinkled the tobacco on to the waiting rocks and lit the kindling underneath to start the fire.
Next the oscapious (cultural helper) opened the sweat lodge coverings. He took several blankets inside the lodge and placed them on the ground for sitting. Water was gathered and made ready while the altar of earth was prepared to receive the pipe. Red hot coals were taken from the fire and placed into a small cast iron pan and the lodge was smudged. Next, we smudged the rattles, willow sticks, sweetgrass and the smudges that would be taken into the lodge. The fire was now burning very well and it would not be long before the moosom rocks would be ready.
The Spirit of our Youth van pulled up, but the youth would not get out of the vehicles. They reclined the van seats and chose to chill out instead. The stew and sandwiches for the sweatlodge were placed on top of the tables to share a meal after the ceremony was done. I spoke to the youth who said they were not interested and hadn’t packed any shorts so they couldn’t participate.
Just then, I observed the elder carrying the rocks into the sweatlodge on his own so I called out to youth who chose to chill in the van. “Hey boys, can you help our moosom carry the rocks into the sweatlodge please?” Immediately the boys exited the van, hurried over to the fire, picked up the forks and began carrying the rocks into the sweatlodge. The young men were gifted tobacco and thanked for choosing to help with the youth ceremony. They then carried the water pail, rattles, sweetgrass, prints and smudges into the sweat lodge as directed by the elder.
After the elder thanked and welcomed everyone he did an opening prayer, and we smoked the pipe. He asked the young men to close the door and we began to pray, chant and sing with the elder. Each round reminded each of us to give thanks to the creator, man, woman and children, all living beings and ourselves. The elder was gentle and patient, he asked each time he splashed water on the hot rocks if we were ok, it wasn’t too hot. It was just right, it was beautiful, we were ok.
After the third round was completed one of the youth said, ‘I wish I remembered to bring shorts and a towel I would like to try come into the sweatlodge”. I told the youth I had an extra pair of swimming trunks and a towel in my truck and he ran to get dressed. Although the shorts were four sizes to big, he tied them up and came into the lodge for the final round. He asked for special prayers for his mother and community, we prayed and sang on his behalf. The final round was much hotter than the first three and just when it felt like it may get too hot the elder called for the door and the flaps were thrown open.
It was a great experience; I could not help but feel like a proud parent when the young men chose to help with the ceremony. The elder was also impressed with the effort of these young men that he invited us to return the following week to participate in a forty-four willow Sundance Sweatlodge teaching. I accepted the invitation on our group’s behalf and we made our way to the tables to share a meal. I smiled as we walked and thought to myself, this has been a truly serendipitous day, hiy hiy.
Marcel Desjarlais