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Snowstorm @ “Standing Rock”

Oceti Sakowin Camp ~ Seven Council Fires Camp

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“Welcome to Standing Rock. Thank you for coming to be part of this powerful moment in history. This fight to stop the pipeline is part of our global struggle for liberation, to protect our planet from extractive capitalism and to heal the devastation of oppression on all our lives… THis is an indigenous-led struggle, on indigenous lands, rooted in centuries of resistance and the specific cultural strengths of the Native peoples gathered here.”

Prayer. Respect. Compassion. Honesty. Generosity. Humility. Wisdom.

-values of the Lakota, Great Sioux Nation

Seattle —> Chicago: December 10, 2016

Driving through Montana, I stopped to reconnect with friends from my days living in LA. We relaxed in tranquil waters together at the Chico hot springs & spa outside of Bozeman before loading up my pick-up truck with a dozen timber logs, some food & clothing donations for those staying @ the ceremonial campsite. Roxy & Lucas stayed there for a few weeks already so thankfully they gave me a few tips, such as where to find a warm place to sleep: A heated geodesic dome erected from a camp @ the previous Burning man.

Upon a late arrival Sunday night, the camp was still celebrating a brief victory from the army core of engineers denying the land permit required to build the Dakota Access Pipeline underneath the Missouri River.

Planning to stay for a few days, I woke up Monday morning to attend an orientation: learning how to best utilize my time here and behave appropriately in honor of the elders & their traditional way of life. Following the hour-long presentation, we exited the large military-style encampment to witness a heavy blizzard underway.

I started to contribute by moving crates full of potatoes & squash to the pantry tent - already stacked with boxes of raw foods. While helping another group load wood panels into a truck for construction of a winterized building, I crossed paths with a lovely woman whom I met during my blissed-out Envision experience in Costa Rica this past February.

The fact that Chrystiana remembered me from our dancing together to Elephant Revival warmed my heart so much, regardless of the frigid weather. I wish I had the chance to spend more time with her. I wonder if she’s still at the camp or headed to Portugal as she originally planned…

As dusk arrived, I did my best to help securing a yurt through the harsh winds without succumbing to frostbite. While holding up the frame as they strapped the vinyl canvas down, I learned from a native woman about the organization that donated the funds for this pricey installation, along with a brief background of her cultural history.

For three weeks in December every year, members of her tribe ride the same journey on horseback which her ancestors were forced to walk after American infantrymen killed their male leaders. Just after the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, women and children had to uproot their lives in the middle of winter - hiking south by foot for salvation elsewhere.

The next day, the temperature dropped considerably causing a few cases of hypothermia. The elderly and sick were given transportation to the local recreation center and nearby casino for warmth. I found my method of assistance in the form of transporting heaters, clothing, food & other equipment from Fort Yates back to camp. Through the night, I helped in collecting empty water jugs and distributing fresh water to the kitchens scattered about the campsite. During our deliveries with my new friend Chadrick, we were periodically gifted with hot food and some leftover ribs, which i devoured without hesitation.

I also befriended a beautiful mountain man named “B” from northern California. He arrived with his friends who desired to leave upon witnessing the harsh conditions. Subsequently, B stayed while his friends left. With conviction & faith, B was confident he would find a ride home when it was his time to leave.

For my last morning, I collected as much trash as i could fit in the bed of my truck before departing in the early afternoon. I took a few pictures but nothing substantial. While I did not have an opportunity to observe any direct actions of protest or witness any of the historic ceremonies collectively honored by tribes united from all across the world, I felt blessed to offer my assistance any way I could.

On my way out of Cannon Ball, North Dakota, I found an elder in need of a ride. Known by many as Grandpa, I learned some of his past on our twenty minute ride and enjoying a meal at the casino buffet together. His blood runs from the legendary Crazy Horse and three generations of his family served in WWi, WWii, Vietnam & Korea. During his deployment, exposure to Agent Orange rendered him infertile and his wife had passed on long ago. Earlier this morning, he slipped on ice and broke his wrist, which didn’t seem to bother him much. Since July he’s been present at Standing Rock yet he shows no weariness at his age of 65. The least I could do was gift him with a meal and a pack of smokes.