Friday, July 06, 2007

for whether we are white or copper skinned

"Lame Deer (name of a small town) is a dangerous place for three young women." "The reservation is really rough." "I wouldn't stay at Lame Deer if I were biking through." This is the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation from what we have heard about from asking the locals in Montana. Many people advised us not to stay there. We decided to take our chances, especially since Seager was a male and he could protect us.
 
As we ride into Lame Deer, the sight is new to me: trailer parks, beer bottles along the side of the road, cars with fenders hanging off, cars driving by with rusty engines.
 
Deacon Joe is white. The first name that the Indians gave him was "Eat and Run". He kindly allows us to stay on the lawn outside his Catholic Church. He tells us that it is no trouble at all, but warns us of his many grandchildren running around. Taleeah comes running out the door. She is dark-colored. "There's one of them!" exclaims Deacon Joe. She likes to play peek-a-boo and run around in circles with her own stroller in her hands. Her mouth is smeared in chocolate frosting. 
 
As we were lying in the hot hot sun outside the church, Deacon Joe invites us to relax inside, and offers us a room to stay in for the night. His big family soon arrives for dinner at the church. All 15 of them are dark-skinned. We see that his wife is a Crow Indian. They all welcome us to the Cheyenne Indian Reservation and invite us to eat dinner with them: heaps of potato salad, hot dogs, steak, jello, corn, and chocolate cake.
 
After dinner, Deacon Joe shows us his church. The space is covered with extraordinary Indian art. The chairs are the vibrant colors of the Cheyenne culture. In front of the prayer room is a handcrafted miniature teepee. The paintings of Jesus and Madonna on the wall depict an Indian Jesus and Cheyennese Madonna. I learned a lot about the spirit of the Cheyenne Indians that night as we all sat in his church, him telling stories of the Indians.
 
Later that night we join him and his big family at the local park for the huge July 4th fireworks display. It is not like the crowds in the city. It is like a family gathering for everyone in town. Suddenly, on the loudspeaker is an announcement: "We have 4 bikers traveling across the country with us here today. Join us in welcoming them to Northern Cheyenne!" Many cars honk. Then more cars honk as excitement for the fireworks builds, the time is getting closer and closer!
 
After the wonderful fireworks display, we all go back to the church. The grandsons are very hyper at the prospect of launching their own fireworks. They leap on each other's backs in excitement. I befriend his grandsons, and we all launch fireworks together in the grass behind the church. One of his grandson's name is Minrod. We laugh that MinWah and Minrod might be related. We even have our hair parted in the same way.
 
I wish I could take those Cheyenne Indians back home with me! 

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