There are few times in life where you are rendered completely speechless. Tonight was one of those times. To some it would seem like such a small thing, but to us, sitting in a circle listening to a Cherokee elder named "Walks In Water" tell us about her bead collection was a truly humbling event that left us grateful, awestruck, and completely speechless.
It wasn't so much that she had likely the most amazing trade bead collection I'll ever see; including African slave trade beads, beads worth $600 a pair, beads from 11th century Tibet, and a North American trade bead nearly 500 years old, but it was the stories of how she got them, where they came from and how they were made.
By far though my favorite was an actual strand given to the family of a friend of hers by Louis and Clark on their expedition in the early 1800s. As I held those beads in my hands I could find no words to describe how amazing it was as a student of history to hold something that significant, I still can't.
Having a couple period beads myself I brought her my beads and she told me that I had two kinds of Italian beads, one kind from the late 17th to early 18th century and one kind from the late 18th to late 19th century. There were also two blue beads at the ends from Russia that she had a ton of that date to around the late 17th to 18th century. I told her that I paid around $20 for them and she told me I got a very good deal. The look on her face told me they are worth considerably more.
Before she parted ways with us for the night She gave each of us a skunk bead (because of the black and white stripes) from the 1600s. Without thinking and even though I know better I held up my right hand. She was quick to remind me that the left hand is for giving and receiving not the right (as the right hand holds your weapon and is therefore not one of friendship). I felt very stupid. She gave me one for Matt as well but something was telling me that I had to keep them straight. My bead was for me and his for him. I strung mine on some sinew but was careful not to do anything with Matts as it was not mine, something told me that too.
Mountains are beautiful, history provides knowledge, but to hold the past leaves one truly speechless.
For a night I will never forget, thank you "Walks In Water"
Until my paddle brings me home,
Andy
It wasn't so much that she had likely the most amazing trade bead collection I'll ever see; including African slave trade beads, beads worth $600 a pair, beads from 11th century Tibet, and a North American trade bead nearly 500 years old, but it was the stories of how she got them, where they came from and how they were made.
By far though my favorite was an actual strand given to the family of a friend of hers by Louis and Clark on their expedition in the early 1800s. As I held those beads in my hands I could find no words to describe how amazing it was as a student of history to hold something that significant, I still can't.
Having a couple period beads myself I brought her my beads and she told me that I had two kinds of Italian beads, one kind from the late 17th to early 18th century and one kind from the late 18th to late 19th century. There were also two blue beads at the ends from Russia that she had a ton of that date to around the late 17th to 18th century. I told her that I paid around $20 for them and she told me I got a very good deal. The look on her face told me they are worth considerably more.
Before she parted ways with us for the night She gave each of us a skunk bead (because of the black and white stripes) from the 1600s. Without thinking and even though I know better I held up my right hand. She was quick to remind me that the left hand is for giving and receiving not the right (as the right hand holds your weapon and is therefore not one of friendship). I felt very stupid. She gave me one for Matt as well but something was telling me that I had to keep them straight. My bead was for me and his for him. I strung mine on some sinew but was careful not to do anything with Matts as it was not mine, something told me that too.
Mountains are beautiful, history provides knowledge, but to hold the past leaves one truly speechless.
For a night I will never forget, thank you "Walks In Water"
Until my paddle brings me home,
Andy
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