"CAN YOU READ THAT?"

Today I met a 94 year old Blackfoot grandma. Her son told me that she speaks good English right as I was being the stupid white girl who gives extra clear and extra simple insturctions. Ha! Made me feel shy, which, by the way, is a hard thing to do. Anyways... she had this beautiful sparkling grey hair tied in two braids with thin leather string. She (not just the braids, but all of her) reminded me of growing up around the Cree people, eating soup and bannick at the Friendship Center, playing in tee-pee's in our school yards, learning how to pow-wow, wondering if pemmican tastes good, and wanting to be native myself so that I could go to the Truck Stop on the Reservation and get tax free gas. Anyways, I love Native American people and their culture.

So after feeling somewhat stupid for over-simplifying things to this grandma who probably had to fight to keep her native tounge from some Jesuites who beat her into speaking only English, I was all "my husband is Iroquois". Well... 1/4 Iroquois, that is. I never let them in on the 1/4 part... hee hee. I just wanted them to know that I wasn't ignorant. The son started to talk to me about the 6 Nations and I was like... yup, yep, unnn-hhhuuh.. trying not to make it known that I really only know stuff about Cree people.

Look at my Iroquois Red Man. Gosh I love him. And it is okay for me to call him a Red Man. I asked him if I could after he made me watch Last of the Mohicans.