The third annual Nápt Tananáwit, Láxs Níšayčt, or Two Cultures – One Community Powwow brought fanfare, celebration and regalia to Pendleton. The event also brought people, thousands from far and wide.
Writing about cultures to which I was not born (at least not in the current incarnation) can be uncomfortable, and I generally do so only after taking time – sometimes months and years – to walk among the people about whom I’m writing. And while this was the third Powwow I’ve attended, I still feel distinctly unqualified to write about what is clearly a deeply personal event to those taking place.
I can only offer instead a few of the pictures I took on Saturday, along with a few personal comments. In cases of named individuals, these names generally came from comments on Facebook – apologies if I got anything incorrect – email me at [email protected] and I will amend.
The Head MC of the event was Ruben Little Head Sr., a member of the Northern Cheyenne Arapahoe tribe. After each song he’d translate the title, occasionally offering humorous commentary.
My favorite RLH line:
“The title of that song is You broke my heart but I enjoy the pain…yeah, I heard that last night in the hotel!”
According to Head Women’s Jingle Dance Judge Acosia Red Elk, “A good MC can make or break a powwow, and Ruben is one of the best. He knows how to talk to spectators and tribal members alike.”
At the risk of sounding overly woo woo, after attending my third Powwow I’ve noticed a pattern of energetic movement among participants. On the floor, among the dancers and participants, energy is almost explosive and difficult to capture in a photograph without better gear than I was carrying.
And then there are quieter, more pensive moments, the before and after performances. I was grateful that these dancers allowed me to snap these photos of them arranging their headdresses in the mirror before dancing. (I didn’t get their names or tribal affiliation – they were clearly in the zone, and I wanted to remain as unobtrusive as possible – especially given that I was taking their picture in the men’s room!)
And then there’s the energy in the areas behind the main arena, a cacophony of color, to be sure, but more subdued as people relax, hydrate and chat between events.
(I didn’t get the name of the masked participant, but I definitely thought she rocked the black facemask.)
Last decent photo from the event (next year I’ll bring the good camera) – I found this youth’s regalia particularly vibrant and electrifying. Didn’t manage to catch the performance but I can only assume it rocked.
Qínutamatash Áhxway Chímti Ánwichtpa! (Will see you all next year!)
Special thanks to Fredrick A Hill Sr, teacher of the Umatilla Language for teaching me the phrase “Qínutamatash Áhxway Chímti Ánwichtpa!”
