21.10.2018. Native Experiences

(introductory apology for still not ranting) the demands keep coming and I don't obey.
There are so many positive things going on that I can't bring myself to chew on something negative.
I thought I'd share with you the experience I've had trying to infiltrate into the native community.
Many of you don't know, but I'm studying basics of the Tlingit language while I'm here. Many of you probably don't know (I didn't before I applied) - the Tlingit are indigenous peoples, one of many, in Alaska. Now, I will not go into history and everything - I'm way too ignorant still - I'll keep this on my experience side.
The Tlingit language is unlike any of the 7 languages I have studied so far. Their way of thinking is different, and so is the language system. It is an agglutinative language - meaning that one sticks bits of morphemes together to form words, word-phrases, word-sentences. It is absolutely fascinating. For instance, the word for a porcupine - xhalak'ách' - means 'pokey hair all around', according to my professor. It's quite funny at times. I've also acquired a Tlingit name, Kanat'á, meaning blueberry.
Another thing I do is wooch.een. It's a student club I and my exchange friends joined back in September, intended for native and rural Alaska students, organising events, sharing experiences and just making friends. Led by Daxkilatch/Kolene - props to her, this is an amazing thing happening here.
There was a celebration on October 8 - Indigenous Peoples' day. As wooch.een, we participated in organising the event, wore nice t-shirts,

cooked and distributed salmon, potatoes, and blueberries,

went canoeing,

and just had a darn good time in our Raptor.

This Friday, we hosted the Gathering of the Drums. It was an experience unlike anything I've experienced. Of course, the wooch.een has to feed people, so it started with a workout preparing some deer spaghetti,

and ended with..what did it end with? Hours of drumming,  singing and dancing around the bonfire. I can't explain the experience. It's something like..something like a Latvian experiences in Dziesmu svētki. Or something like a yogi experiences with the flow. It's such a deep, deep reconnection with nature, with people, with oneself. When I took that drumstick, it radiated heat - or so I thought. It was the people around me the heat came from, in the form of pure energy and power, and it went through me and bounced back. Best I can attempt in description.

 

I hope you understand why I'm unable to rant. This is too wonderful to do so.
I also thought a bit about Latvian traditions and all the wonderful things we historically have, the songs and dances and all. Stories. Legends. I cannot help but see them diminish. I just hope our nation doesn't shrink to 200 fluent speakers to start preserving the culture.