Time seems to be slipping by faster than I can catch hold of
it. Somehow we made it out of the winter, broke through the snow and ice to
make it back here to Sky Meadow. With the changing of the seasons came changes
in Big Jobs as well. The new responsibilities are as follows:
Navigation: Izzy
and Nathanael
Food: Emma
and Noa
Canoe Manager/Captain
One*: Jamie
Paddling Gear/Captain
Two: Cat
Bathroom/Hygiene/Water:
Hazel
Tent/Tarps/Camp: Chase
Kitchen: Andrew
Energy/Fire/Tools:
Ezra
Bikes/Vehicles/Trailers/Repairs:
Sam
Sewing/Medic: Mayah
Logistics/Scribe:
Rachel
*Captain refers to that human being who shall be in control of
one of the three big rowboats on Lake Champlain. Captains get to
clean the boats and sometimes tell people what to do, as far as I’ve gathered.
That’s right, I, Rachel, am now in control of this wonderful
blog and will be keeping you updated on all that goes on for the rest of our
Semester.
…
And so Big Jobs change and time goes ever winding on,
bringing joys and travels that we can only dream of, affixed as we are in the
present.
In Oujé
Bougoumou, however, we made the choice to leave time behind us, along with any
preconceived notions of what life in a Cree community would be like. Even the
mode of travel, endless hours in the van, seemed timeless and oddly
disconnected. Perhaps the sense of dislocation is due to the fact that this is
the first time on our semester when we have not traveled by our own power, when
the trip has been more about the destination than the journey to it. But oh,
what a destination it was!
 |
| Noa working on a beaver hide while Cat stokes the fire |
In Cree,
Oujé Bougoumou means ‘the place where people gather’ and, appearing suddenly
out of the vast tracts of spruce and Jack pine, is a community that truly
embodies its name. Though we spent little time in the town proper, we were
lucky enough to be shown around by Mark, who spoke to us of the town’s history,
of his own life, and the upcoming Goose Break. The Goose Break is the week when
most of Oujé is deserted as people return to their family hunting grounds to
take advantage of the migration of the geese. It felt then like we too were a
migrating species.
After a few
days, we headed out into the bush with our guides Anna and David, staying once
more in wall tents with thick bough floors. The only way out to the camp was a
long walk along snow covered roads which turned into narrow snowmobile trails,
clearly used only by Anna and David as they went from camp to town and back.
A moment’s
thought:
We have snowshoes now!
I kind of miss skiing
Foot stuck in a hole
-Hazel
We lived in
a state of constant awareness. Though we didn’t change camp at all, something
could always be learned by watching Anna and David as they moved about the
camp; how to best scrape a moose hide or the proper manner of gutting the fish
we caught. We were incredibly connected to the wild meat we ate, even from the
very first day. A few of us plucked and prepared six ptarmigan, a type of small
white bird native to the area. We ate moose and goose and fish - though, in the
interest of honesty, we did not get to go moose or goose hunting. Fishing, on
the other hand, was a central part of our life. We set nets under the ice,
catching pike, whitefish, and sucker fish. Not only did we eat beaver, including
the tail, we also helped to stretch and dry their pelts.
A moment’s thought:
Anna, still scraping, told me to get
out the pelt beside me and scrape with the knife lying next to it. I scraped
for a long time, ever so often stopping to watch her mechanism of movement
carefully. I felt blind to all the things she must be doing that made her do
three in the time I did one. But I found I knew something. There is idealism in
me I had not met before. I had been craving the gift of skill from a bush
woman; I had been noticing the pangs of interest and respect I felt when I saw
her hold a child with the breeze about her, a song posing within her – a stable
intention unplugged from goal, as she effortlessly tolled a calm ringing for
the uncomfortable grappling toddler lamenting in her arms. She mutters, “It’s
okay, it’s okay”, her face quiet, her body tolling back and forth. I look away
and catch this feeling. It is painful, it is malleable, most of all it is the
feeling of ground underfoot, soft, after a storm when the last raindrops float
to earth.
I walk out of the tent. My time will
come.
I’ve found – sooner than I thought –
for it begins with the beaver hide. When she gave me this skill, I saw the
beaver from gray baby in the underwater oasis of dark air, to the pond, growing
suddenly in spring, through storms and waterways adjourning till a time of
meeting - full grown through David’s hands then to Anna’s hands. –Cat
 |
| Cat and Anna |
The lake
from which we got our water and fish also provided us with the wonderful opportunity
of dunking into the water- but only after we chiseled through three feet of
ice. Let me paint a picture for you:
We stand
around a snowshoe-sized hole in the ice, staring into the inky water below. We
wait for our guide, David, so that we can pull up the net we sent down three
days ago. The winds gusts across the open ice and we huddle together, grateful
for the millions of layers we are wearing. Then Sam smiles a mischievous smile
and looks around with a glint in his eyes we know all to well. “I’m going in.”
He declares and, to our surprise, Emily and Oliver allow it; we’re close enough
to camp that it’s perfectly safe. Of course, taking off those millions of layers takes a while and requires a few of us
to become clothing racks to keep everything off the ice but soon enough, Sam is
in the (quite literally) icy water.
There is an 18-inch wall of ice surrounding this hole.
This is cold.
I hope pike don’t bite my toes.
I should get out.
-Sam
 |
| Ice fishing |
 |
| Emily Turner, semester teacher |
 |
| Izzy and Chase scraping a moose hide |
 |
| Ice fishing |
And so we
passed our time in the bush, tanning moose hides, roasting geese, carving and
crafting outside in the Canadian sun. When at last it was time to go, we left
behind several jars of maple syrup that we’d made at Sky Meadow and took with
us a newfound knowledge and a vast respect for the Cree people. Thank you to
Anna and David, their families, and the Oujé Bougoumou community for taking
such wonderful care of us!
We then
traveled from the bush down to Quebec City- about as different as you can get
in terms of culture, but the two are far more intertwined than many seem to
realize. The French-Canadian way of life and that of the native people are at
once separate and wholly influenced and directed by each other; how fitting,
then, that we experienced both in so short a time. We stayed in a youth hostel in
the old city, and spent a morning on a scavenger hunt through the city, getting
vaguely lost on the French sounding streets and learning the city’s history.
The adventure ended at La Musée de la Civilization (the Museum of
Civilization), where we saw both the Quebec and Native history areas.
A moment’s thought:
At the Museum of Civilization, we explored
the exhibits. First we went to an exhibit detailing the settlement of the Saint
Lawrence Bay and the building of Quebec City. We learned about Cartier’s
landing at Gaspe in 1534 and Samuel de Champlain’s discovery of the city
location and the beginning of the fur trade. Next we moved on to the Native
exhibit where we saw a lot of old artifacts. We also learned more about the
Native’s interaction with the government in Canada and the differences in land
stewardship of the Natives and of the French-Canadians.
It was interesting seeing the
exhibit after so recently being in a community that lived in the way we saw
within the walls of the museum. Some of the stories we had even already heard
from Anna and David, both of whom had lived the history.” –Noa
 |
| Games in Quebec City |
The next
day we had the chance to walk around the city a bit more, going down to the
waterfront for a while to see the ice beginning to break up. Then, as a treat,
we got to go out to lunch at L’Omlette. Though we completely butchered the
French language as we attempted to order our meal, the folks at the restaurant
were patient with us and soon we were all happily consuming poutine, the soup
de jour, cannolini parce au veau, and a few other dishes that we shared. Then,
joy of joys: dessert courtesy of Mrs. Row- thank you for making our day a good
deal sweeter!
Maple syrup pie
Chocolate mousse for everyone
Let’s get in the van!!
-Hazel
 |
| Rachel and Andrew enjoying lunch |
We had crepes, maple pie, and chocolate mousse, all of which
were delicious. Buzzing with sugar and ready to head home to Sky Meadow at
last, we piled into the van for the long drive back.
It’s April 18th
Driving south to Sky Meadow
Why is it snowing??!!??
-Hazel
So yes,
time has been running away with us, but we are sprinting alongside it, ready to
leap fully into spring and all the adventures it will hold!
Lately, I’ve been
searching the sky for something to wonder on. A falling star or a rising sun, a
flying car or a wish undone. Anything with which I might scheme my next step.
I’ve asked the Earth for inspiration, should she have a piece to spare. While I
wait, I sift sand through my fingers and find wind whispering across my face.
Crocuses take refuge in my hollow spaces and we all sit quietly together, dust
and breeze and blood, all awaiting a message brought around in an arc with the
dawn of the sun. What the coming light holds, we couldn’t possibly yet behold,
but I feel the dance moving on in our direction and I couldn’t possibly be more
filled up with the beat of the days of the rest of this life.
-Mayah
I’ve
decided to add a new section to this week's blog! Often, trying to convince my dearly
beloved Semestermates to give me pieces of their writing is almost impossible,
but clearly I want everyone to be represented in the blog. The following
section is my solution.
Excuses I Have Been
Given by Those Who Don’t Give Me Writing to Put into this Beautiful and Very
Important Piece Of Electronic Literature
“Cuz my writing is to deep for… for… for… myself to
understand.” - Chase
“Jamie is feeling strangely disconnected from himself and
he’s in the strangest mood he’s ever been in, contemplating how to live a
productive life. Jamie is also feeling that his writing is too special for the
blog.” -Jamie
“Cuz my handwriting is illiterate. I’m a busy man, I don’t
got time for that!” – Nathanael
“I don’t know, I don’t have an excuse, I could put something
in the blog if you like…” – Emma
“I can give you a piece of writing – oh, uh, my dog ate my
homework. Um, Mayah, what’s my excuse? [Mayah: You’re busy fighting dragons and
saving princesses.] Yeah, say that!” – Izzy
“My handwriting resembles an ancient language from Sumer.
Actually say that isn’t a legit excuse, everyone can read my handwriting except
Stefan.” - Andrew
Ezra fell asleep
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