The van that stopped for me was driven by an aboriginal
gentleman. With him in the front seat was his teenage son. Originally I thought
he said he could just drive me to the corner where the north and south ring roads
join together and turn east. That in itself was not a great ride, but it did
mean that I would get away from all of the folks using the ring road to commute
from one part of Winnipeg to another. However what he really said was that he
could take me near the border of Manitoba and Ontario. That was a great ride.
Shoal Lake, where they were headed, is a First Nation
community that has the sad claim to fame of being a community with one of the
longest "boil water" advisory in Canada. Seventeen years seems like a
long time for folks to figure out how to rectify the problem. So of course we
talked about that issue, the problem with the three levels of government being
unable to agree upon who should pay for what and the frustration of living in
that community. It was in some aspects, a painful conversation in that there
was nothing I could say to explain or justify the situation. All I could do was
to apologize for the inadequacy of the government's response and the fact that
the vast majority of Canadians seem to be unable maintain any interest in this
or any other issue that primarily affects just First Nations communities. He
was, I think. a kind man who saw no need to make me feel bad or to give me a
lecture. I suspect he could have, he just chose not to.
We did, during our two and bit hour drive, talk about other
stuff as well. He did some construction in the area as well as some maintenance
on cottages etc. He seemed to have a semi-permanent connection with a person
who had transformed their cottage into a very expensive permanent home. I think
he said that he had done much of that work plus whatever else the person wanted
him to do. He had had a number of children (I think he said eight) and talked
about the fact that he would be working until he died to pay for them. He
appeared to be satisfied with his life and was clearly not complaining about
his need to work for the foreseeable future. While he may have struggled with some of his
adult relationships ( I think he had had a number of relationships) he was a
very caring dad who enjoyed being a dad. His son, said almost nothing during
our time together even when I tried to engage him in the conversation.
At some point in our time together he pulled out his
telephone and showed me some pictures of his most recent project. (It should be
noted that almost all of my drivers used a cell phone at least once during my
time with them, ignoring with little or no thought the law or the danger). One
of the things he did was to make components of Pow Wow dancers' regalia. The
picture was of a large (looked to be at least as big as an extra large pizza
pan) back decorations. The feathers had been dyed an extraordinarily brilliant turquoise. It was, to say the least absolutely
gorgeous. I asked him where he got the feathers from. He said they were eagle
feathers and people give them to him. There were a lot of feathers in the one
piece of regalia. The cynic in me wonders if he buys them and if people are
killing eagles to get them. Having watched a number of dancers at Pow Wows - it
is hard for me to believe that that many feather just fall out of the sky as
the birds fly by.
He let me out and turned
down Shoal Lake road. I felt as if I was in the middle of nowhere. There were
very few cars on the road, no houses, no signs. I was not lost, but I did not
know where I was. I started to look at various sections of the grass across the
ditch - wondering if I was going to sleep outside that night. I had stopped
thinking about food and I still had a fair amount of water so I was not
worried. On the other hand - it was bear country. I need not have worried.
Within fifteen or so minutes, a SUV coming from Shoal Lake turned the corner on
the Trans-Canada and stopped for me.
My driver was a
young man from that community and was off to Kenora. I was surprised that
Kenora was only a 20 kilometre trip. None-the-less I was very grateful for the
ride. It was a great little conversation. I learnt a couple of things that I
had not known. One was that while outsiders like me assume that First Nations
individuals have a strong connection to their home community, my driver said
that that was not always true. In fact, especially when there are a number of
communities in close proximity to each other, people are inclined to move
around between communities and therefore may have mixed loyalties. This was
supported by the fact that my previous driver seemed to have two homes - one
somewhere near Winnipeg on a reserve and one at Shoal Lake. The other thing,
which I guess I really knew if I had thought about it, was that young people in
First Nations communities are just as confused about their roles in life and
what they should do as anyone else in Canada. The exception to that might be
that some, including my driver, felt a strong obligation to be engaged in the
movement to change the relationship with the Canadian Government. But he like
so many people did not have a clue how to do that.
As he made the turn
off to Kenora (there is a by-pass but the Trans-Canada goes right through
Kenora), he asked me where I wanted to get out. It was now just past 7:00PM. I
had been on the road for 12 hours, it was going to get dark fairly soon and I
have never had to hitch through Kenora. I decided I didn't want to do it at
night so I said "I think I will get out at the next small motel that we
see". One came up shortly after, it looked to be small, there was a
restaurant attached - good enough for me. I thanked the driver, got out,
crossed the road, dropped my pack and went to find the office.
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