Sweat Lodge

there was a time, in the 90s, when Laura had been deeply, yes deeply, she recalled: connected, truly connected, to the Native American Movements...these "Movements" had been over human rights issues and land issues and so on. young people, especially, had felt some 'call' to help tribal people get their Rghts: Now, so to speak, and it all had been a hot and Now thing to be involved in, for sure. there were 'in' groups and dysfunctional groups and 'wanna bees', and Laura had, luckily for her, been peripheral: but "involved" with a real 'in' group of folks. now, just past the first decade of the 2000s, all that intense desire to be part of something, anything, outside of her own middle-class, secure culture, seemed so innocent, really. she was, is, of course, "white", and the AIM Movement is "red", or indigenous, or whatever they want to label it at the time... it's their right to call their culture and their work and lands and tribes and so on: whatever they want! but, back in the day, she was involved, though way on the edges, of something big, or, it seemed "big"....it was all a matter of italics, and of vague alliances, really....

this was her friend Tonia's trip, finally, after all. Tonia was, (and she is, in fact, a "was", cuz she's dead for over seven years now): the in-between, the human rights advocate, the friend, the ally, of dozens of families of Navajo folk, the Dine', who were still living on Hopi tribal lands in the Southwest...her story was a long, incredible story all by itself...Laura was her friend, and she was helping Tonia to write her "Book" about all the work she and these families, who were all connected to Navajo weaving women, were doing to resist being 'removed' from the Hopi reservation (the "res") by the feds and the Hopis and all...well, that was the connection: another story....so, back to 'the Sweat Lodge' that this tale is all about....

a number of whites who were getting closer to these Native families were starting to get more involved in the cultural thinking and rites and traditions of these real people they were working with: there was lots of talk about respect and unity and listening to what the 'people' really wanted, and not what the 'liberals' wanted and so on. Laura had totally bought the respectful-distance part. she felt very white and somewhat ignorant about Native American customs in modern times, much less how to behave as an outsider around their rituals and all. Tonia was much more assertive, well, agressive really, about pushing past the Wanna-Be-Indian-Tribe self consciousness right into a sort of "We're all folks in this together and aren't we strong and rightous together" brand of cheerful position, which was very appealing to listen to! besides, she had a track record of selling the weaver's traditional rugs for way, way more than they were making at Trading Posts, in 'shows' around the country. so,she had super-viable credentials to back up her intrusions onto cultural waters that other whites couldn't navigate... or, were not invited to even explore....

one of these 'cultural events' Tonia needed and wanted was the Sweat Lodge. to note, a Sweat Lodge is not, and was not then, a new-age hippy deal. it's serious stuff to many, many Indian folks - especially the youth and folks into alcohol or drugs too-deep and what not:
The REAL Sweat Lodge is an entirely, entirely dark dome with a fire pit and dirt to sit on all around it inside. A 'Fire Man' has been up for hours firing big rocks right outside of it to an almost white glow of intense heat. The dome is made out of any old cloth or hides or plastics, and it's all outside, usually some place nice, and quiet and protected. a Leader is predermined, and he has eveyone go through a flap and sit inside. then he closes the flap of cloth or hide that opens to or out of the dome and it is very, very, very dark. finally he says some sound, and the flap opens a bit. The Fire Man hoists a firey stone into the pit and shuts the flap. The Leader starts to pray and chant and calls on every body to respond in some way. by now the dark and the heat are either freaking out new folks, or feeling great. but, the Fire Man keeps adding stones, and stones, and stones. everyone is sweating and boiling in their very brains and some people start to cry, and others are feeling great, although terrified, and others are just stoic or capable or whatever. it depends. eventually the flap is opened for a little for folks to breathe, or leave. then it's closed again for a second round and so on. it is very, very intense, and not for weak hearts or weak minds, and certainly not for weak spirits. people are in for it full steam, or not. they are going to work and pray their bodies and souls out. that's what it's about in there.

the 'Sweat' Laura was first sort-of invited to attend was up high on a ridge over-looking the Pacific in northern California. the only reason she was accepted at all, really, was that she was doing "The Book" with Tonia. she had been very excited, but knew better then to look it. she maintained her respectful look even around Tonia, who was also into her serious personna for this one. The Lodge had been built by a famous AIM guy, so this was a really special invitation, no light matter. except for Tonia, Laura knew no one at all. she made it through the children's session by focussing on a pinpoint of light in the dome covers that no one seemed to have spotted. The Leader let the kids out after awhile, and then he told the Fire Man to cover the little hole of light that he had noticed. Laura felt an icy hand in her chest, and tensed. somehow, this just wasn't feeling so good....

The Leader reminded everybody that they needed to leave now, or they'd just have to stay through the whole next round. no one moved...the Flap closed. it was way, way dark, beyond dark. the red glows of the few stones in the pit were all anyone could see...at all....Laura felt a sense of real doom. it wasn't a joke or a thought. it was in her body: a sense of rest-in-peace...but, that she would suffer first....the flap opened, and the FireMan shoveled in two stones. the heat grew and grew. some folks were groaning. Laura sat quiet and waited to see what demon was inside the tent with them, because that's what it felt like to her: that hell was coming close to her and would take her without a song...more stones were shoveled in, one by one. chanting and praying were going on all around her, but Laura sat silent as the stones were silent. time was going on and on and on forever...

but then, suddenly, softly, and steadily, and clearly, out of her own mouth, came these words: "I must leave the Lodge." The voice was not her voice at all. she felt it was in her body, but not hers. The Leader looked at her gravely in the suddenly silent dome. "Why?" he asked her, so softly, as clearly. she looked in his direction into his very eyes, into the glow of his eyes. "I am going to die." it was a pure report, handed over from bud to bloom. The Leader lifted the flap himself without a word. and she left the Lodge.

on the other side, the Fire Man was tending the fire. he did not even glance at her, but he put a blanket over her shoulders and sat her down on a large stone right outside of the flap. "Open the door whenever they call.", he told her, and went back to the fire. it was gloomy although it was still daylight, and the dome glowed inside and out from the stones and the moisture and the dryness all around them. when the Leader shouted, she opened the flap. stones were placed in and some were removed and put into the fire pit outside to garner more heat. she sat and opened the flap many, many times without a word. chants and moans and prayers were muffled and, somehow, great comfort. the Fire Man seemed very kind towards her, but he never smiled or talked at all. she felt the kindness all the same. all around her and in her insides too....

she waited and waited outside for a long, long time... then, all at once, everyone came out, suddenly: thirsty and sweating and hungry and eager for cigs and very quiet. she and Tonia ate with everybody and drank water. Laura didn't even see where the food was coming from. people just handed her the food and all, not smiling, but, somehow, very kind. Laura was aware of something unusual inside and outside of herself. but it had no name at all, except a deep sense of belonging somewhere, somewhere safe, because of kindness all around.

people began to get ready to go to their cars. the stones were being carefully doused with water. someone would stay with them all night, to thank them for their contribution to the 'Sweat'. and to be sure they didn't somehow start a fire in the dry ridges. Tonia had not yet said a word to Laura. she had not yet even looked in Laura's direction. Laura wondered, naturally, if her friend was ashamed of her, or embarrassed by her, for having left the Lodge at a 'wrong' time. she had left during second round, sure, but the Leader had shown her the way out, hadn't he? she sat quietly on her side of the front seat.

Tonia took off in a real huff down the dirt road, rattling the car and their bodies angrily with the speed. Laura was alarmed enough to shout, "What's going on? Was it something I did? Slow down, Tonia! I'm gonna get sick or we'll have an accident or something. Tonia stopped the car abruptly. "Do you know", she asked, not looking at Laura. "Do you know what we had to do back there?" "Where? What are you talking about?" Laura was truly confused and so tired! "Back in the 'Sweat' of course! We had to pray for YOU, the whole damn time in there, we had to pray for YOU!"

Laura felt dry and tired. "What are you saying? I don't get it, Tonia..."
"I'm saying, the second you left the Lodge...god, Laura, NO ONE EVER LEAVES THE LODGE!...we had to start praying for THE DOOR WOMAN."
"Who is the Door Woman? Please, Tonia, tell me what I did wrong!"
"Apparently, NOTHING. It was all us. We had to suffer for YOU. YOU got to get cleansed and healed by OUR suffering and OUR prayers. The Leader NEVER let up on us! It was just all you, you, YOU!"
"But Tonia, I'm not the Door Woman, whoever that is? And, Tonia, I was going to DIE, I just know I was going to DIE in there! I HAD to leave!"
"Yeah, whatever. See, that was the part he thought was so great. He said you took ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO LEAVE AND WALKED DOWN DEATH. He said you were A TRUE WARRIOR IN THE FACE OF DEATH."

Laura was shocked and quiet and very, very tired. "I see.", she said, although she didn't think she 'saw' at all..."So, I guess that's the last time I get to go to a 'Sweat'? I'm sorry I behaved, well, however I behaved. I'm not so sure what happend in there, Tonia. It may be like he said. But, I don't feel it that way...I don't feel anything right now, Tonia..."
Tonia sighed, "Alright, alright. I guess I'm being a little hard on a Warrior Lady who doesn't even know that she did anything special..." . she paused. "Laura, I suppose I have to admit that you ARE something special...I see that now. You don't even know what you're doing, but you cross over hell if you have to do it...That's worth praying for, for someone who can show us how to do that. I see it now...". Tonia started up the car again.

"And," she grinned wryly, "You're not getting off that easily. He wants you to come back the next time we have a 'Sweat'...you have a job you have to do."
"Door Woman.", Laura spoke quietly.
"Yeah. Door Woman."
so that's how it was. that's what happened.

well, it was years and years later. Tonia had died in a car accident on the 'Res'...the infamous "Book" had died with her, it turned out....

sometimes, when she is sitting around a hearth or a campfire or a wood stove, even, Laura will look at the flames and think about the many times she has truly escaped her own death, while facing it, somehow, in her own way...it has never seemed that "special" to her, not at all...
she wouldn't call herself a 'Warrior'...but she can hear the chants and the burning woods hissing and clicking and smell the smoke...there are wars to fight and hot, hot stones to cross over...
she would be, she could be, the 'Door Woman': she would be happy to open the flap whenever called...to allow the cool air to freshen the warriors within the dome...those who pray for her...

to them, for them, she sends her own kind and solemn prayers, up in to the dark and smokey sky....