Basic Call to Consciousness

Continued from last week.

He explained the meaning of the Sacred Pipe. This was his mission – to open the ceremony and to carry and offer the Pipe. He was moved, he said, by all the words he had heard, by the strength that they represented together, how it all fit, and he knew that it was good. Then he spoke of the Pipe, of the origins of the Lakota, of the power the Pipe had and of the many manifestations he had witnessed of that power – how it had been used at Wounded Knee, and at the many trials, how he had seen, over and over, the minds of men changed by the power of that prayer and what the smoke represented.

So, Phillip Deer had his hand up and his forefinger was extended, and he was pointing at each of the men, and he was smiling.

“All of you men that are going to be speaking tomorrow,’ he said. “You remind me of something that we do at home. And I’d like to tell you about it.”

They had a ceremony at home, Phillip said, a fire-starting ceremony, in which several men got around a circle and there would be gathered also some straw or hay or wood chips – something to ignite – then each of the men would begin. And all together they would strike flint – hitting, hitting, trying to make jump that spark.

“You men that will be speaking,” Phillip said. “You remind me of those young men striking stone. Your mission is to light the fire, to ignite the hearts of all those people, of the representatives of the various countries, of the NGOs, of the mass-media. You must make that spark fly.

“But it is not going to be all of you that starts that fire.”

“At home, all of the young men strike the stone, over and over. Strike, strike, strike – but only one makes the spark jump. And one spark ignites the fire. So, it will be tomorrow. All of you will strike. All of you will speak. And one – one of you – will ignite the fire. I know it.”

Everyone nodded silently. Then Russell Means reached into his pocket and pulled out a butane lighter. “Here, lets try this one too.” He said.

Phillip laughed. Juan Condori laughed too, nodding. Looking pleased. He turned to the interpreter. “And how is it that the Lakota say to agree?” he asked in Spanish. Then he remembered.

“Ho!” he said loudly. “Ho!”

Grandfather David Monongwe offered a prayer, and everyone surrounded him. He was wrapped in a blanket, a short, wiry man with a face full of years. Everyone’s thoughts came together on the hope that what would be said that morning would be heard. The old man looked to the earth and he looked to the sky and he offered his prayer to the four directions and he spoke as only a Hopi could speak and then the drum sounded.

People lined up and the elders took their places, the chiefs, then everyone else – the young men drumming, their voices raised high.

There were photographers all around now (they had been restricted during the prayer) and they followed to the side and behind and some ran backwards in front, stumbling over each other. The delegations marched. The warriors carried the drum. The women held their shawls. Some of the young people half danced, half walked, and you could see many legs and feet on the hard pavement.

“Heya…heya…heya…heya”

I remember running in front to take a few pictures, running backwards too, and crouching down to shoot and how strong and beautiful the people looked and how they kept on coming.

I ran way up ahead, trying to get a shot that would encompass them all and through the lens of the camera there was the center leading, which was the men with the Pipes – the men carrying their Pipes very high and their serious proud faces, and behind them the people spreading out, coming on, and all around them and rising behind them was the early morning traffic and the city of Geneva and all those faces looking on.

Then I circled way around the back and by now the people were on the grounds of the Palais Des Nations and looking up over the backs of their heads at the windows of the United Nations buildings you could see many faces and heads sticking out and out the doors were coming small crowds and it was obvious that the work of the whole place had been halted.

People smiled at us and a few waved.

At the entrance to the building the drum was silenced. Grandfather David offered a second prayer. Then another song.

And from the windows and doors of the United Nations buildings – all those people began to clap and cheer.

Then the people went inside.

Continued next week.