Sweat Lodge Joe Speaks Some More:

Sweat Lodge Joe Speaks Some More:
A Quarter Century of Rendezvoux

Happy Twenty Fifth, one an' all. Buy y'selves a drink. Et pour notre freres et souers Quebecois, Joyeux 'Vous Vingt-cinqieme!

Looking back on the past 24 Rendezvoux (Lucky Pierre sez that's the proper plural of "Rendezvous") and all the complications, trepidations, obfuscations (not to mention the maledictions, afflictions and derelictions), it's hard to believe we've made it.

There have been changes in location, changes in entertainment, changes in staff, changes in leadership and some very hard, very lean, very weird times when it was a very real possibility that the last Rendezvous would be the LAST Rendezvous, but through it all, through the legal hassles, the political intrigues, the hassles with the former "abutters" ('cuz we get along well with our "neighbors") and the Millennium madness, we're still here. All the old faces with all the new scars.

Here at Indian Lookout, now in 2003, nearly ten years after Kemp banked down that long last offramp to Forever Road, his dream still lives on. I think he'd be proud. Still, twenty five years isn't a real long time in the grand scheme of things. It's a third of an average lifetime but only 11% of our history as a nation. It's a long time if you're holding your breath, but not long at all if you're trying to grow a mountain.

It's more time than either of my kids have been around and about half of my own life so far, so I decided I needed a wider, broader and deeper perspective. That kind of wisdom resides in the oldest guy I knew so, after stopping at the boozer, the book shop and the cigarette store, I was off to the Sweat Lodge. I slipped a loitering chipmunk a fiver to downy a message to the Ol' Dude, just to let him know I was coming, packed my saddlebags with goodies and headed off into the woods.
The winding path is long and arduous. Fallen trees, hanging branches, sinkholes and piles of bearshit litter the dappled way through the woods to the Sweat Lodge. It is not a path for the fainthearted or those easily lost. I'm surprised I made it. The birchbark dome seemed to shimmer in the afternoon sunshine as Sweat Lodge Joe himself, Indian Lookout's First Citizen and Resident Sage, propped the flapdoor open and waved me in. I don't know how he does it - I'd been creepin' along for the last quarter-mile, but the Ol' Dude must've heard me coming anyway.

"Nay hay omo ashtay, Youngblood. I see you." he said with a smile. It's not the kind of thing that most people would consider a smile, more of just a rearrangement of the copious wrinkles in his leathery face, but the gleam in his ancient eyes was unmistakable. The Ol' Dude really was glad to see me, and not just on account of all the goodies I'd brought. "Come in. Sit. We sweat some. We smoke some."

"Nay hay omo ashtay, Grandfather. I see you. It is good to see you. You look well." And he did, for a man of his age (You should look so good at 511!). I followed him into the silvery twilight of the lodge.

"I feel well," he replied, straightening up and slapping his chest to show his stamina. "Things are good. Very busy. Gettin' ready for Five Hands Pow Wow." He sat across the firepit from me and took up his pipe. "You build fire."

"Five Hands Pow Wow? Sounds like a blast!" I said as I bent to the fire pit. The fire had been laid as if he knew I was coming. He probably did.

"Should be, providing you don't screw up, Youngblood."

"So when is this pow wow?" Maybe I could fit it into my busy schedule.

He looked at me a tad askance. "First of summer. Long-day weekend. Same as always."

"Aha." I nodded. "Where's it gonna be?"

"Indian Lookout Country Club." He paused, giving me a look like I'd forgotten my own name (which has actually happened in the sweat lodge). "Same as always."

The rocks were hot and he splashed them with a gourdful of water from the shallow pool beside his seat, vanishing into the cloud of steam and reappearing instantly, standing next to me with a rough but reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Are you well, Youngblood?"

"Good as I get, I guess." I shrugged, then thought for a minute. Five Hands Pow Wow. Solstice weekend. Indian Lookout. Five hands. 25. The 25th Rendezvous. I slapped my forehead. Damn, he must think I was finally losing my mind. I looked up through the steam to see him sitting in his customary spot, gourd in hand. Maybe I was.

"Uh... right." I stammered. "So you're really lookin' forward to it, eh?"

"Big time. All signs say Five Hands Pow Wow gonna be big gathering of spirits. Many long time gone gonna be there. Many never come before gonna be there. Gonna be time of Big Medicine. Many spirits come just for Five Hands, many people come bring offerings, remembrances, for spirits. Bring spirits close." He handed me his pipe.

"What kind of spirits, Grandfather?"

"All kinds. Old spirits, young spirits, even new spirits."

"New spirits? Newcomer spirits?"

"Yes. Both. All kinds. Big doings this year. This year, many gather on top of hill. Word in the wind say many spirits coming."

"Why this year?" I asked, filling the pipe with the special mixture I'd brought. He paused to light the pipe, offering the smoke to the four winds, the earth and the sky before taking any for himself. "Five is medicine number. Number of elements; fire, water, earth, air, spirit. Number of directions; north, east, west, south, center. Number of tribes in Old Nation. Five worlds, five ages of universe. One thing good, two better, five best, most powerful. See hand? Hand shows unity of five. One is small and weak," he said, holding up a gnarled finger, then closing his fist, "five is big, strong. Five Hands big coming-together of many small coming-togethers." He handed me the pipe and I puffed thoughtfully. The smoke was rich and sweet and things were becoming clearer as the lode got cloudier. I passed him the pipe.

"So the spirits are coming because of the Five Hands?"

"Five Hands big magic, big mojo. Coming-together like logs in fire, take one away from fire, it goes out. Put many together, fire burns brighter than any one alone. Together makes extra energy. Spirits feel the energy, come to it, like trucker say, 'coming in five by five,' like gathering storm, only like storm of light. Make people see many things clearly, but too bright for some. Hurt to look at, but see better after." He puffed reflectively. "The word is out, in wind, in wire, on drum. All say distant brothers come from out of sunset, bring Wall That Moves to top of hill. Spirits gather."

"The Moving Wall. The spirits are gathering at the Wall?"

"Spirits usually find home, stay home. Some places home to many spirits. Most spirits like to stay home, unless called or need to visit somebody. Wall is home to many spirits. Where Wall goes, spirits go." He handed me the pipe. "Now Wall come to Indian Lookout, also home to many spirits. Busy weekend. Big traffic, big medicine."

"I think I see." I puffed.

"You will see. Will also feel. Spirits move like breeze, whisper, touch sometimes, like breeze, but different. Touch of spirit inside as well as outside. Spirit touch always bring change. Sometimes head change, spirit word teach. Sometimes heart change, spirit touch heal." He took the pipe and puffed pensively, then continued. "Wall bring signs from spirits. All along Wall are names of warrior spirits. Warrior spirits very strong, fierce, loyal. Many come to see Wall, seek wisdom from spirits. They come, look at Wall, see name. Old Days, to say a name was to call spirit. Now, to read name is to call spirit. Then must look deeper, past name, look into Wall, see spirit. Touch Wall, touch spirit." He handed the pipe back to me. "This is not easy. Few speak to spirits, fewer listen. For some, this is first time to see or be touched by spirit. Hurt to open heart, open mind, first time, but then feel better. Wiser. Healed. People - all people, Old Ones, Newcomers, everybody - need to spend time with spirits, like spirits need spend time with us."

"Wha... ?" I nearly choked on a lungful of smoke. "What do the spirits need with us?" I passed the pipe back to him.

"Spirits very wise. Must pass wisdom to us, make us wise. Not just know more machines, but know wisdom. Know how to preserve our world and spirit world. Learn to prepare for spirit world. Neglected spirit fade away, but spirits thrive when they live in our hearts. We honor spirits, spirits protect us. Spirits teach many things. Best messages seem simple, but also easy to forget. Spirits need to remind us, so they come. Wait for us to listen. Five Hands Pow Wow many will listen, many will learn when warrior spirits come to teach many lessons, to touch many hearts."

"What are the spirit messages, Grandfather?"

"Simple, mostly, but important. Spirit Word say they are happy and well in spirit world. Spirit Touch say they still love and protect those who remain in this world. Lessons almost too simple to remember, so must speak with spirits often. They will remind us. Wall will help remind us. Washtay. This is a good thing."

I though about the Ancient One's words, recalled the names of the friends, relatives and brothers in arms who names marched silently across the obsidian mirror of the Wall. I though about how it had been in Washington twenty years ago at the dedication of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I thought about how it had been in June of '90 when I had been honored to read my own work when The Moving Wall had visited Hyannis, and all the times I'd seen it since, and I realized the Ol' Dude was right. The Five Hands Pow Wow was, indeed, going to be quite the gathering, both for those in this world and those in the spirit world.

The week of First of Summer would be the perfect time for all those who hadn't had the chance to get to DC or who hadn't seen The Moving Wall elsewhere, or who just hadn't taken the time to speak to, and listen to, and be touched by, the spirits of those they still loved and who still loved them, to exchange whispers in the wind, to touch and be touched, and then to celebrate the joy of their lives and their safe passage into the spirit world. It would be, indeed, Big Medicine.
"Five Hands Pow Wow. I'll be there, Grandfather."

"Washtay. It is a good thing," he nodded.

"I'll try not to screw up too badly."

"Washtaylo." He nodded. "It is a very good thing. Five Hands Pow Wow gonna be big medicine, but big fun, too. Drink many beers, smoke big smoke, dance up a storm!"

"It's gonna be a blast, Grandfather, just... uh... maybe take it a little easy on the dancin' eh? You remember what happened at the Staff Meeting last year."

His ancient eyes gleamed as he rearranged his wrinkles again.

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