It's All About the Dress

Earlier this month, Aleeka Smith celebrated the passing down of a very special ceremonial buckskin dress that belonged to her great aunt, Mary Miller Marchand.

Aleeka lives in the lower Methow Valley along the same riverbank where her great aunt lived, along with many other generations before them. In Mary’s last years she requested that Aleeka be her “hands and feet” — a position of honor as an assistant to an elder. In exchange for helping hands, the elder passes down stories and cultural knowledge to the younger person.

Buckskin dresses have names and stories associated with each garment, as do woven blankets. This dress was made by Diane Aiken specifically for Mary. The dress was worn by Mary when she served as grand marshal in many community celebrations over the years, including the Wenatchee Apple Blossom parade and the Omak Stampede.

Mary Miller Marchand and her brother, Lewis Miller,
Grand Marshals of the Apple Blossom Festival in Wenatchee

Mary dedicated her life to serving others while preserving Native American history and culture. She drove the seniors’ bus, managed the five community centers for the Colville Reservation, served on the Colville Business Council, interviewed and recorded tribal elders for the archival collection at the Colville History/Archaeology Department, and worked closely with linguists at the University of British Columbia to document different dialects of the Salish language using the International Phonetic Alphabet.

Mary passed away in March 2013. At that time, her sons — Aleeka’s cousins — presented Aleeka with Mary’s ceremonial buckskin dress. It wasn’t until this month that the family was able to properly “bring Aleeka out” and celebrate the passing down of the dress in public on the first night of the Indian Encampment at the Omak Stampede.

Mary gave Aleeka her Indian name, StiɁícxən, which means “killdeer”, because Aleeka reminded her of the small bird that ran in short bursts along the river’s edge, flitting back and forth as she helped her Auntie.Before the ceremony, I at with Aleeka as her cousin Olivia expertly wove Aleeka’s dark thick hair into two long braids. At 13 years old, Aleeka possesses a gentle spirit with a strong sense of who she is, and the generations that came before her — in part because of her time spent as the “hands and feet” of her Auntie Mary. She spoke quietly of her Auntie Mary, pausing as she thought before she spoke. “She was passionate about teaching everyone about our culture, and our elders, to always take care of them. I want to continue her work, passing down her stories, how she lived,” Aleeka said.

As Aleeka stepped out that night in Mary’s dress, her braids were wrapped in otter fur, and a beaded barrette secured hawk feathers to the crown of her head. Colorful beadwork covered the white buckskin dress. Sky-blue beads banded across the shoulders with white sunbursts outlined in yellow, orange, red and black beads. Purple shells cascaded in rows from the waist. Around her neck, Aleeka wore several necklaces, one of polished onyx, another of mother of pearl, and a long strand of beads and bone that matched the colors in her dress.

Randy Lewis, Mary’s son, began the ceremony by speaking about his mother Mary, her impact on those around her in this world, and the importance of the dress that now belonged to Aleeka. After Randy spoke honorable words about Mary, and introduced Aleeka, a drumming group began to play, as Aleeka and her mother Crystal walked the circumference of the arena. As they passed by each of the four entryways of the arena, friends and family streamed out to join them. After embracing and sharing words of support, people joined a great line and walked in time to the drums. Some grandmothers and aunties danced in time to the beat as the crowd made their way around the arena.

Just a young woman, Aleeka has many years to add to the memories associated with her Auntie Mary’s dress.

Methow Valley or Northern Exposure with a twist of Twin Peaks?

I love this valley. 

I love it for the dramatic scenery, the high alpine lakes, the hiking trails, the pristine rivers, and the bubbling creeks. 

I love this valley for the depth of character, the people who live here. There are many 'characters' - much like a series of North Exposure reruns, or Twin Peaks mysteries.

Here are just a few...

Buckskin Techie

Just watched a survivalist pull his hand stitched buckskin shirt and breeches out of the washing machine. He smells heavily of woodsmoke and animals. He lives in a small cabin off the grid in the woods. No running water or electricity. He harvests his food from the woods, berries, roots, and small game. He cooks outside over an open flame, and stitches his clothing by hand. He draws the line at washing his clothes in the river, after all, we are civilized. That is what the laundromat is there for. Also for the free wifi. While his clothes are being automatically washed in the laundromat, he blogs on his laptop about a wonderful simple life without modern day conveniences...how ironic.

The "Lost Something" Guy

Every time I'm out walking the dogs, he stops his jeep, idles it, revs the engine, cigarette dangling from his lip, and asks if I've lost _____ (usually a dog, but you never know what he'll come up with - generator, set of wrenches, stovepipe, etc.) If you don't immediately yell "No!", he will pontificate on what a hero he is for saving the human race and everything they've lost. (I know that makes me sound bitchy, but you would quickly come to the same conclusion within 3 seconds, I bet you a stovepipe.)
Tonight Joe and I are out for a walk with the dogs and Lost Something pulls up on his ATV with a plow jimmy rigged to the front, a box of wine tied to the handlebars with bungie cords, three headlamps strapped to his head, and two inches of ash hanging off the end of his cigarette. "You guys lose a headlamp?"
"NO!!!!"

Crazy Manifesto Garage Guy

Anti-government rebel uses his garage as a billboard. A rickety wooden shack held up by hundreds of layers of white paint plays host to entire dissertations spray painted in black. A few topic examples:

"The Chinese market is still good"

"The Genghis Khan invasion is happening now with thousands of children invading our borders!"

"Obamacare is KILLING us ALL!!" "LIARS!! PERJURY!!"

Naked Fan Lady

I bought a lawn mower yesterday. You would think this would be a boring event, but no. No it was not. Nothing is ever boring in the Methow.

1. A giant beetle, like, eight inches long was on the pavement next to the mowers. A squirrel stalked it, jumped on it, wrestled it, and ran off with it. The beetle was the same size as the squirrel.

2. During this exciting show, the saleswoman grabbed my hand and squeezed it the whole time. I thought it was weird, and slightly endearing, that she needed to hold someone's hand while a squirrel went all WWWF on a beetle.

3. Then a naked woman, NAKED, walked through the parking lot and into the store dragging a fan, the cord skipping behind her. The clerk rolled her eyes and muttered, "oh LORD" before hollering, "Laura, it's THE FAN," as if this has been an ongoing heated situation. Someone asked the fan lady if it was hot enough for her. She didn't get the joke…

I had to go to the hardware store today. I braced myself for the naked fan lady (much like the Twin Peaks log lady, only naked, and holding a fan instead of a log) She was nowhere to be found but I did see the feed store guy walking down the street with a 2 foot tall Macaw parrot riding on his shoulder, and they kissed. I think her name is Daisy. Then, the Les Schwab guy drove over to the coffee stand and ordered a milk shake...while on his forklift. If this sounds like a scene from a Richard Scarry book, that's what it looked like to me, too. I love the Methow.

The Dryer

Seen at the laundromat, moving his clothes from dryer to dryer every five minutes because “they aren’t dry yet, this dryer doesn’t work.” Forty minutes and eight dryers later, he decides that last dryer must work because his clothes are dry. Could not understand why his Canadian quarters did not work in the dryer.

The Chicken Lover

You know you live in the Methow when a call to book a weekend conference at a local resort for 70+ planetary scientists turns into a conversation about the mental health of chickens. Seriously. This just happened.

The Third Person

Sweet Lady: Where do you live?

Me: On Gold Creek

Sweet Lady: Oh! So you might know...Do you know the gal who writes for the paper? She writes the Methow column?

Me: Yes! That is me!

Sweet Lady: Oh, ok then, it is you. (she did not believe me) Her husband hiked the PCT.

Me: He sure did...

She went on to tell me in detail about every single column I had ever written. She did it in the third person, as if Joanna Bastian was this mutual friend of ours, not the person who was sitting in front of her. Cue Twin Peaks music...

The Caterer

You know you live in the Methow when every single interviewed caterer said their signature dish was 'emmer faro salad' Only in the Methow...

The Juggling Arborist

Actual email exchange:

I'd like to buy some trees, are you open this Friday?

I am away juggling this weekend. Be back Tuesday.

Lightening Repair Guys

Only in the Methow does a mundane task like picking up your bicycle from the repair shop turn into something like this:

I'm driving up a forested road when some guy in bright red shorts comes running down the hill waving his arms - "Come up this way!" He seems adamant.

I turn the truck and start up the hill. He points and says, "you can park there, it's over this way." I park and get out and start to follow him and we are soon standing side by side, hands on hips, staring down at a well pump. He looks at me for the first time, takes in my blonde pony tail, embroidered floral tank/dress top and says, "You're not the pump guy!" to which I respond, "You're not the bike guy."

He points me in the right direction and I soon find the bike guy who says, "park there and follow me!" He was more interested in showing me the hammock tied to the tree that got hit by lightening last week, than talking about bikes. "I was laying right there! I'm still not right. And Gary's well pump got hit by lightening, too!"

Wacky Tourists

A man and woman were watching the osprey for nearly 45 minutes, ooohing, ahhhing, applauding - having a grand old time. I asked if they were local and they said, no just driving through. We had a fun conversation about birds and then I asked if I could take their photo for the paper and take a quote, the man was happy and quick to say "yes", the woman jumped up and said, "No, that is a bad idea" looked at the man and said, "A REALLY BAD IDEA" and then they jumped in their car and sped off.

Torrid affair?

Bank Robbers?

Witness protection program?

Another wacky tourist sighting:

Two people frolicking in their underwear through an alfalfa field. At the junction of Hwy 20 and SR153. Farmer porn?

Namaste Lady

While at the Farmers Market on Saturday:

Sweet Old Lady: You are in my yoga class!

Me: Sorry, don't think so, I'm not in a yoga class.

Sweet Old Lady: Yes you are! You are in my yoga class!

Me: Okay. Namaste

..........Later that evening..........

I attend a charity dinner and out of 300 people, the Sweet Old Lady and I are assigned to the same table. What are the odds...

Sweet Old Lady: I know you from somewhere. Where do I know you?

Me: Yoga class.

Sweet Old Lady: (claps her hands) That's it!

Dead Angela

Why I couldn't get a breakfast burrito today:

Every Thursday I get a breakfast burrito. Last week I went to my favorite burrito place and a new employee was standing behind the counter. She stared at me strangely for the longest time before this happened:

Her - You could be someone I knew

Me - I could be

Her - You could be Angela

Me - Thank you, I'm sure Angela is a beautiful person

Her - ANGELA IS DEAD.

Me - *awkward straightening of menus and avoiding eye contact with crazy lady before grabbing burrito, throwing down money and running out of door.

The Certified Bone Reconstructionalist

A week after ankle reconstruction, I went out to dinner at a local fundraiser. I had just gotten up from a folding chair - no small feat with only one good leg - and was balancing on the crutches when a local character with good intentions stepped up. 

Her: Sweetie! What did you do?

Me: Broke it, it's all good

Her: I'm a Certified Bone Reconstructionalist, I can fix that for you right now. (She bends over and grabs the cast with both hands, knocking me slightly off balance)

Me: (swinging leg out of her reach) Oh WHOA! OK, let's not do that right here, right now, alright?

Her: (snapping fingers in my face) You are right. Let's do it tomorrow. You give me a call, it's on the house.

Me: Ooooooookie Dokie