First and Foremost, Happy Belated Indigenous Peoples’ Day. This past week end my family and I traveled to my father’s hometown, Ahoskie, North Carolina, to honor our ancestors that inhabited the “new” world long before violence, disease, and colonization brought on by Christopher Columbus dismantled our culture. The powwow is a testament to the blood, sweat, and tears shed by our ancestors to rebuild our traditions and commemorate an endangered people. Follow the link to learn more about the history of the Meherrin Indians and Pleasant Plains Church, which was founded by many of my relatives.
Ahoskie is a place I have always loved to visit since childhood. Of course, I prefer my visits to be no longer than 36 hours because the North Carolina heat is stifling, the bugs are unidentifiable, and Verizon is the only wireless carrier that works within a 20 mile radius. My hair don’t have the time, me and my babies skin don’t have the callousness, and I refuse to be in the middle of nowhere with ZERO connection to the outside world. I am also painfully reminded of death at every corner in Ahoskie. People can bury loved ones in the front yard, back yard, on the side of the house, or in weird above ground vaults. Here’s an example, my Aunt’s second husband is buried literally outside the master bedroom of her double wide next to his first wife. When my Aunt passes away, she is set to be laid to rest on his left side. And, she is okay with it. That’s a bizarre death love triangle burial plot thing I want no parts of. First wife is haunting that place FOR SURE, so you probably won’t catch me at her house past sunset. As eerie as some traditions are, I need my fill of the country life every now and again.
So, we set out from Maryland to Ahoskie – my ornery Vietnam War Vet father, my hormonal mother, my diabetic brother, myself, Vanesa, and Sebastian. My father is at the age where long drives put his passengers in imminent danger due to his refusal to take off the bifocals. I have never seen my mother pump gas, so I knew she wouldn’t make eye contact for the driver’s seat. And Brodie. . . well I didn’t know which personality I was dealing with, so I went ahead and took the keys.
For five hours, I drove with my hands at 10 and 2 or 12 and 3. Every time a car braked or I braked, my mother clutched her pearls, her purse, and the passenger handle. She literally was a back seat driver for 4 hours. When my father noticed I was driving 10 miles above the speed limit, he screamed for the sweet by and by in his country drawl. I rolled myself out of the vehicle probably about 10 times in my head. Though I’d never survive a fall from a Yukon Denali XL going 68 mph on 95 South during a holiday week end, the thought made me chuckle and kept the experience in perspective. Extended road trips with parents are the best thing ever, said no one ever.
I was somewhere between I’m never talking to my parents again, nausea, and thank you GOD when we finally arrived at our destination. I love my Native American people, but I have a threshold in extreme temperatures. I literally told everyone, let’s soak up everything we can in an hour and gracefully exit. After all, we have been to our fair share of powwow’s and see the same folks every year. We watched the various age groups dance. We sat and listened to the drummers. Vanesa made various Native American crafts designed to strengthen the hands for farming and hunting related tasks. Sebastian soaked in the sights and sounds excitedly until his flushed cheeks forced me in the air conditioning with him. My dad was right at home with the elders, telling stories about the past and reminiscing on the times when Ahoskie was a Podunk farming town that trains happened to pass through.
Ahoskie is a stone’s throw from Williamsburg, VA and the Hampton/Chesapeake areas of Virginia. If you are ever spending your ‘Columbus’ week end there, make the powwow a day activity for the family. The Meherrin Tribe would love the support and the tribal grounds are full of activities, teepee included.
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