However, something stopped me from going into the event hall and so we stood in the covered outdoor area.
The Grand Entry
A man in Native American clothing entered the dance floor. He had a bowl in his hand and spread the smoke with a feather fan. The gray-white clouds accompanied him as he paced the wooden floor and smoked it off. The clouds spread quickly in the hall and seemed to touch everything gently. Before it dissolved and merged with the 'nothing' around us, the smell of the sweet grass rose into my nose as well. Suddenly there was a familiar feeling in me and I listened to myself. For a moment I was connected to a memory from my childhood. I saw the little wooden pipe in front of me in which we children had stuffed the dried grass.We lit the hay, the white smoke rose and resembled the aroma of the sweet grass, which was now above the PowWow.
For a moment I was very close to a time that had already been forgotten.
The voice of the German speaker drew my attention back to what was happening.I saw the many different people, some of whom had adapted her clothing to the "Indian" cultural event. Some of them then began to line up, forming a line of people, headed by the young Sioux man.He carried a flag adorned with eagle feathers. With careful and proud dance steps he stepped onto the wooden floor. In the rhythm of the Indian sounds, the others followed him and the “Eagle Stuff” onto the dance floor until they had formed a large circle formation. Then the standard-bearers broke away from the group and stepped into the center. In a ceremony, the individual flags were honored, handed over and placed next to the jury desk. Now the PowWow was officially opened and the audience was invited to take part in the "Intertribal Dance" together with the guests from America.
Dancing together.
"Grandma, we have to dance too!" said my granddaughter and gently pulled at my hand. I didn't like that and uneasiness spread so I started looking for excuses. I had an inhibition threshold in me and tried to wriggle out like an eel. But when I looked into her eyes, which were beaming with excitement, I had already lost. Moreover I also wanted to experience a powwow and I can only experience something if I become part of the whole. So we went into the hall, mingled with the people and looked for a place on the edge of the dance floor.
When we arrived, the dance floor straight was being cleared to make room for the upcoming performances. Through the loudspeaker came the voice of the speaker who was leading the event. The first dancer was announced, accompanied by brief information about the regalias and the meaning of the dance.
The Navajo Dancer entered the wooden dance floor and lay down a couple of hoops.These immediately reminded me of the Hula-Hupp tires that circled around my waist as a was a child. Music from a culture and language foreign to me came from the loudspeakers. In his Regalia he started to dance and the hoops smelted with his presentation. Again and again he created new artistic symbols without interrupting his dance in any way. Like a story, they seemed to unite in the hoop dance.
Impressive regalias and dances now let me participate in a culture that is so foreign to us and yet seems familiar. Some performances were also danced by non-natives,to get an impression of the diversity of the different PowWow dances.
There were more Intertribal dances between the performances and this time we too entered the dance floor. The small child hand slipped into mine, I felt the slight pressure, as if it offered us trust and security, as we mixed in the crowd. For a few moments we remained standing on the wooden dance floor; we looked around us, observed everything, as if in a snapshot that wants to capture every detail. My feet began to move und following the invitation of the foreign sounds. In the rhythm of the drum and the singing we merged with the other dancers.A mixed group of people moved together to the drum beats. At that moment, it didn't seem to matter where you came from, whether man or woman, with a handicap or what color your skin is. In the middle of it all, the PowWow dancers from America whose movements and strangeness flowed through the people and united them to dance. They let us participate in their culture that seems familiar to us and yet is so far away from what has determined and shaped our lives. Suddenly I noticed how the pressure in my hand increased.The Sioux dancer danced expressively right next to us. He towered over us by a few head lengths and seemed to be completely connected to his movements. His regalia completed this impressive picture. Suddenly he let out a loud scream and we automatically winced. The first fright about this the then turned into a smile and was accompanied by a "Wauh, cool" on the part of my granddaughter.I myself was still completely occupied with this scene when the traditional Zuni / Omaha dancer was next to us. He too seemed to be completely at one with his movements. His face was painted and despite the loud music, we heard the little bells that adorned his regalia. He passed us by to the rhythm of the drums.
Suddenly my granddaughter stopped and watched after the dancer. She seemed to be watching everything closely. Then the little body started moving again, trying to match her dance steps with those of the Powwow dancer.
If you watch a Native American dancer, you can feel this bond. These people don't just dance, they are the dance. They seem one with every movement and with every part of their regalia. Their music flows through their bodies, they fuse, awaken and preserve the soul of their people and their culture. At least that's what it left in me.
All these people were drawn here that evening. Everyone came with their own story, thoughts and intuition. Everyone will leave this arena again with their own impressions, images and emotions. Some will quickly return to their everyday lives. The memories will fade. But some of them will perhaps take this insights into Native Americans culture with them as a new stone, painted with a colorful memory and that enriches their own path of life.
The dance festival left a lasting memory on my granddaughter. In her childlike play, she deals with this special experience and processes her impressions. When she started asking me a lot of questions that I couldn't answer, I realized how little I know about the cultures, history and traditions of Native Americans.
