For the First Peoples, the land is the source of Life- a Gift from the Creator. “Mother Earth” is the center of their universe, the core of their culture , the origin of their identity as a people, the provider of their material needs.

“The land cannot be given or taken away, we belong to the Land; our birth does not sever the cord of life which comes from the Land, our spirituality, our culture, and our social life depend on it”.

Respect for all life – animals, insects, plans, mountains, rivers, skies & seas are inseparably interconnected. First peoples do not consider the land merely an economic resource. Their land depends on lives, and in relationship to the environment around them. They know that the land is to be shared. If you misuse the land, you are killing yourself. Remember the earth will survive long after you’re gone.

Traditional people think the land is there for everyone to use, the way our hand is there, the grass, the trees and animals are our flesh. nature is our religion, thank the Creator for what he has given us all.”

Roger A. Johnson, 30 august 1991.

‘Nii t’am lax ooks by’, is Roger’s original Gitxsan name, meaning ‘care for the people’ as well as describing ‘a frog on a lily pad’. His generation was influenced by residential schools, church and government, making them loose their mother tongue and culture. Roger still speaks the old language and works as a interpreter in discussions and court cases between government, mining companies and the First Nation elders.

Nowadays the Gitxsan youth is depressed and suicide rate is very high.

“We can’t cry over spilt milk! We must maintain our culture and our language. We need a huge cultural center to teach our culture and language to young and old.”

While we were talking with Roger, a car drove up. A very conservatively woman stepped out and gave Roger a booklet and drove off again. The others in her car did not come out. The cover of the booklet depicted a nice drawing of a traditional Indian sky burial. But the rest of it basically said that that was nice in the old days, but against the bible and all First Nations should switch to ‘modern’ Christian values and culture…

“I remember my Grandparents often saying to me, ‘You are my cane, You are my sunshine, You are my flower”.

Roger gave me a Gitxsan First nation flag, which has been on my bike since. Then he waved us goodbye from the stairs leading up to his frontdoor. ‘Do not forget to wake up every morning, and shout to the world: Good Morning Canada!’.

(Sources: our meeting with Roger; Partly quoted from the local article ‘Wisdom of the Elders’ by Zanna Ove; Speech of Roger A Johnson transcribed by Julian Burge)

Of course we took the road less travelled Highway 37, The Stewart Cassiar Highway, or simply The Cassiar Highway. All names for this infamous road, almost 1000km long, known for the lack of services, bad weather, bears and gravel patches. The latter issue had been solved we had been promised, but the other?

2nd September: Nugget City – French Creek, 58km

The adventure started sunny, but dark clouds appeared, especially on Ivana’s face when she noticed the first set of hills. “is this going to be like that for the rest of the road?” she asked. I truly did not know, but suspected that this was just the beginning…

Fortunately some nice people made our day by donating a full bag of cut-up watermelon, just what the doctor ordered as the sun had come out. Unfortunately the wind had come to and after a week of tailwind, we were not happy to have it in our face again, slowing us down.

Ivana spotted a black bear, right beside the road, I must have raced right past him on the downhill. At least that made her a bit happier and when we also found a nice deserted rest area called French Creek where we -after hanging our foodbags in the trees- could relax near a good campfire.

3rd September: French Creek – Jade City, 72km

We woke up to a sunny day and followed the road into the mountain range. Clearly this road was not made for tourism or speed. This was not only noticable in the many small ups and downs, but also in the lack of services along the way. We passed the blocked turn-off for the small town of Cassiar, after which the highway is nicknamed. It does not exist anymore, it’s a ghost town after demand for its asbestos dried up and access to what is left is now restricted.

Just before we entered the small First nation town of Good Hope lake, where some of Cassiar’s residents moved to, I stopped to film Ivana passing me in front of one of many ‘Wonderful lakes’ we had seen today. In any other place, such natural beauty would be lined with parking lots, jetskis and tourist services, but here it is just part of the rugged landscape. I noticed Ivana had stopped and was gesturing wildly.

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well, then I don’t know if I saw it! What did it look like”

“I saw something cross the street. I could not see a tail, but long legs and it was dark coloured. It sounds strange, but after browsing through all mental images of animals in my mind I think it came closest to being a monkey!”

After some debate we decided that it probably was not a new species of Canadian monkey, but what was it?  Just behind us was a sign next to the road, saying: “watch for wildlife, next 10km”. Ok, so we agreed: the animal Ivana had seen was ‘a wildlife‘, a very useful description of all future unidentified animals…

Good Hope lake promised to have a supermarket, which was good, as we were almost out of food. We noticed a girl with a baby, loading things in a car.

“Is this the supermarket?” we asked, pointing at the damaged building where she had appeared from, while a small dog-like creature (wildlife?) barked annoyingly at our boots.

“You caught me just in time, I was just about to head out”, she said. This was true in many ways it appeared. Not only was she about to close the shop for the day (at 2 ‘o clock in teh afternoon), but also for the season, which became painfully clear by the roughly 23 items still left for sale on the dusty shelves. Fortunately it included some biketravellers staple diet: spaghetti & noodle soups!

The wind was not so bad here and we entered Jade City while it was still light. The signs ‘Free Coffee’ and ‘Free Camping’ were both irresistible. We checked the place out, which is basically not more than a collection of some buildings and a shop where all kinds of jade thingies are being sold. We helped ourselves shamelessly to the exquisite collection of hot drinks and got to chat with Robin & Claudia and stay the rest of the day, having to pitch our tent in the dark.

I had proposed to Ivana on the summit of Kilimanjaro, 3 months before, but as I only had a carabiner at the time, we did not have rings, we both do not like too fancy jewelry anyway. We found some nice, simple, cheap -and green- jade ones in the store: perfect!

4th September: Jade City – Rabid Grizzly, 88km

We had heard some animals near our tent and the next morning we saw a big black fox cross the road. After a brief climb we enjoyed many nice downhills between logged and replanted forests and yet more Wonderful Lakes and snowy peaks.

Ivana had stopped in front of me and I saw she was looking at a fox which was hiding in the grass. Though quite shy, his curiosity apparently won as he came very close to us. We were not only enjoying being around such a wonderful creature, but also that we could take the tame and play with him for an hour or so. In the meantime maybe 3 trucks and 2 RV’s passed, at which moment we had to chase the fox off the road…

We got a triple ‘Cassiar-surprise‘ at the end of the day: rain, very steep hills and gravel, a great combination to ruin your day. We had though that we could maybe make it to Dease lake, but were beat after the muddy uphills and called it quits at the interestingly named Rabid Grizzly (though other travellers also referred to it as Rabbit Grizzly as well as Rapid Grizzly) rest area.  It still rained, so we cooked inside the small toilet.

We had to evacuate it soon after as a passing car carried some passengers that needed it. A few minutes later they came back, stopped and gave us bananas, noodle soups and other goodies, great! It still surprises us how generous so many people can be towards total strangers that might be considered bums or even hippies by others…

5/6 September: Dease Lake

After the rest of the more than 20km long hilly gravel patch we arrived in Dease Lake. Not exactly a very wild place, hardly alive at all. But it had a very well stocked supermarket with an ATM, so our moods were indestructible, we wouldn’t have to go hunt’n for a week!

After our bellies were finally full we went looking for a Wifi spot and found a great one in the learning center building, also housing the small library. When we were working, a van stopped and a guy came out, lit a cigarette and asked with a heavy french accent if we were online. It turned out that he and his friend were driving the support vehicle for a totally different kind of cyclist: Swiss Jean-Philippe Patthey is trying to set a record time for cycling from Prudhoe Bay to Ushuaia. What will take us about 3 years, he s trying to do in roughly 130 days!

As ‘Jean-Phi’ arrives on his recumbent bike a bit later, we are amazed to hear that he started only 2 weeks before. Furthermore, when we will arrive in Seattle, he will be in Panama…

It is impressive as he is not the youngest cyclist. But he is not carrying anything (all his gear is in the truck), he does not have to arrange any logistics, places to sleep or food (his team does that) and he has no time to meet people or see places along the way, which is our main goal.

Ivana is very happy when she finds out that Jean-Phi is the logistical partner and friend of Mike Horn and that she had been reading about him in one of Mike’s books.

We had secretly camped behind the Library as we could charge our batteries from our tent and do some online back-ups on our Elephant Drive while the connection was good.

The next day another van appeared and two fit Californians introduce themselves: Megan and Guy. It is nice to see their small van, a great contrast with the 10+ m Rv’s we saw before.

While we were having lunch with them, and older woman passed us and stopped for a chat. She mentioned that she would come back later and that she might have her propane tank filled by then, so we could take a a shower if we wanted. That sounded great, but when darkness came it cold very cold and so we quickly fixed our tent again. We did hear a car late at night, but we were deep inside our sleeping bags as it was close to freezing outside.

The next morning we found a note, starting off with: “Dear Travellers”, explaining that her shower was ready and that we were welcome to come by for breakfast. Signed: Holly Eden (see her picture here). It was accompanied by some great tasting cookies, all packaged in plastic to protect them from the rain and morning dew.

We did get our shower from Holly, as well as a great breakfast. While we were cooking an Indian man came by, with very long hair. He was more impressed with our hair -both quite long by now- than our trip. Holly and her church work with him and of his friends, many of whom have had serious problems with alcohol. He told with wild gestures about his recent quad-accident and then went out to help a neighbour.

When we had said goodbye he came towards me and offered me a small bottle of whiskey, secretly hidden in a pocket. I told him ‘no thanks, I do not drink that’ and he took off without saying a word with an expression on his face that showed anger, shame, disbelief and pride at the same time.

We headed out of Dease Lake, climbing almost 400 vertical meters non stop. We passed Gnat lake pass, with 1100m our second highest point so far on the trip. The landscape was probably pretty, but the rain and cold wind took away any joy that was left.

What goes up must come down and we were treated to some excellent downhill sections. Alas, it was raining and we ended up going down on 8% muddy gravel with many potholes, which was no real fun anymore.

At the bottom of the slope we ended up at the Stikine River bridge. Holly had told us about a friend of hers that lived on a ranch, close to here, so we went to find him. It was further than we though, but we arrived at a large clearing with several buildings.

Willie Williams (Please see his photo here) is a great man and he invited us in immediately and even let us sleep in his old house, lined with memories.

8- 11 September: Stikine River Ranch – Meziadin Junction, 288km. 2800m up, 3500m down..

Willie insisted that he would take us and our bikes with his pickup back to the road, over the bridge and halfway up the first hill. When we saw the muddy 8% uphill gravel road we were glad we took his offer..

We spend the night at the Kisaskan campground, arriving very late, in the dark. It was a beautiful place, next to a lake. You have to pay for it, but there was no self-registration and no park warden, so we got away cheap.

The day promised much good as it was very sunny, but soon we met the culprit of the day: a fierce wind pushed us back the entire day, exhausting us totally. Thanks to some huge downhills we managed to arrive at the Bob Quinn lake rest area (more like a parking space, next to the road, but it did have a toilet/shelter and bear-containers).

The 10th was a rainy day, a very rainy day. We made it to a wooden shelter about 25km passed Bell 2 Lodge, under which we could make a campfire and pitch our tent.

Ivana got quite nervous in the night as she heard footsteps and noises near the tent. I was too sleepy to get bothered, but the next day we found quite some mouse scat on our Ortlieb bags

We were now in a new river valley and the going was easy and the forests and valleys beautiful. We met some Dutch people at lunch who prepared a nice lunch for us!

Alas, the ‘venom was in the tail’ as we say in Holland: we were treated on some steep and long climbs out of the valley and some old-fashioned Rollercoasters to top them off and we were happy when we arrived at the Meziadin Junction. There were some abandoned buildings there, in which we could pitch our tent, but it all looked a bit spooky. we decided to pay for the acclaimed campground next to the wonderful Meziadin lake.

We were glad we did after hearing from 2 South African motor-biketravellers, Johan & Charmaine that they spotted some black bears near the buildings, less than 5 minutes after we decided not to crash there! It was the first time that Ivana had ever heard afrikaans and though she recognized some Dutch words, she could not make it out (‘it’s an older code, Skipper!‘). This is what they wrote about us on their site:

Daar het ons ‘n egpaar op fietse ontmoet, Harry (Holand) en sy vrou (Argentinie) ry hul fietse vanaf Prudhoe Bay na Usiua, en julle het gedink ons is braaf?

After I had to ask the RV next door to finally shut off their outside (!) generator, we could finally sleep. Most of the infamous Cassiar Highway was done. We hated it at times, but already missed it before we were done with it… First we were going to go on a nice little side trip tomorrow: on the 37a highways, towards the small towns of Stewart & Hyder, Alaska!

———-

Below is a rough map of the section described above. For more detailed and an overal map, see the route map page here.

We woke up to a nice day, which means: no rain Before heading out towards the seductions of Whitehorse, we decided to cycle around in Champagne, which appeared to be a ghost town. We spotted some good campsites near the community hall, wondering why our ‘hosts’ had not pointed these out. Just when we were turning around to start our trip towards Whitehorse, noticed some smoke coming out of a building. We checked it out and found a few ladies cooking in a large kitchen.

‘Do you want some breakfast?’ One asked.

Letmethink-yes!

‘Sit down, you can stay for the Potlatch.’

We had no idea what the Potlatch (often called Potluck) was, but we found out during this wonderful day. It was one year ago that one elder of the Champagne-Aishihik First nation had died. Now, one year later, a spirit house was built on her grave and all friends and family came together for the celebration of this occasion and to remember her.

So during the day a row of people came into the huge community hall, from very young to very old.. We were happy that we could help out during the day. I helped making al the tables and chairs ready for 200 persons and grilled several hundred of ‘Hooligans’: some small type of fish. Ivana helped serving the people, there were many courses. We got fed ourselves as well: from Moosejaw soup to fish eggs to salad and salmon. Ivana convinced teh shy children that she could turn them into animals by painting their faces. We talked with the elders as well as the younger generations. It was all great.

I spoke a while with Yoyo, one of the elders.

‘So you can tell your friends that you were with the Indians and that they all wore feathers and such’, Yoyo remarked.

I told him that that stereotype was not my impression of the First Nation people we had met so far. He looked at me, decided that I was good and started to talk about his past.

‘You know, the younger generation cannot speak our language anymore. I am one of the last ones to speak it. Our language is lower to the ground, closer to the earth. If I forgot my gloves near a tree in a big forest 60 miles away, I could explain a friend where to look for them in a few minutes. In the high speech, this is impossible’.

‘We were happy, but when the white people came, they took our children and put them in religious camps. They had to learn the bible and forget about all that our ancestors had taught them. Most came back broken, cut off from their traditions. Now slowly we get some rights back, but the connection with our past is gone forever…’

‘In our tradition, there is no hierarchy, no rich and poor. We share all things. Some people might have a better harvest, a better hunt or nowadays a better salary. We share all, so everybody can live well. This was forbidden in the Indian Act, as the missionaries said it was ‘non-Christian’  to have no ranks and to share everything…’

During the day the tables in the back were filled with all kinds of things: food, blankets, plastic stuff. It was a bit strange to see all that, but we found out that all items would be given away to the ‘Wolves’. The Indian ‘Band’ was divided in Crows (Ravens) and Wolves, an ancient way of preventing bloodlines to become too limited: a wolf can never marry another wolf etc.

One of the organizers, Ted, gave me a red ribbon and told me to wear it, I was an honorary wolf and therefore would participate in receiving gifts. One of the first things I received was a huge warm blanket. Very nice, but completely unpractical on a bike, so I asked if they could give it to somebody else who might need it more. One of the people in charge came to us and told us with a serious face that it was very impolite to refuse gifts at a potlatch. We got the hint and happily received heavy items, food and other things. In teh end we gave most of it away to some family members who seemed to need it more.

There was a young and very shy couple -of which I am not sure if their parents had kept to the Wolves/Crows code- that was incredible happy with all the gifts. At one point the young man and woman softly spoke a few words that for me summarizes a lot of the people  of Alaska and the Yukon: “Great, now I do not have to go hunting for a week!’. ‘And we can invite all our friends and share this with them’, his girlfriend replied cheerfully…

One of the interesting things is that most relatives donated money. The received amounts were read aloud: Mr x has donated $5. Mr Y and family have donated $250. All donations were received with applause and ranged from $5 to $750. At the end of the day, the money was used to pay off the kitchen staff, for any other costs that had been made, and for the gifts. What was left, was handed out to all people, where the elderly and poorest clearly got their share first. They even donated $10 to me and as I was not allowed to refuse, we came out ahead on this day, but in many more ways than just financially…

Some background information about the Aishihik First nation & Potlatches:

Champagne and Aishihik First Nations

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The Champagne and Aishihik First Nations is a First Nation in the Yukon Territory in Canada. Its original population centres were Champagne, Yukon and Aishihik, Yukon, but most of its citizens moved to Haines Junction, Yukon to take advantage of services offered there such as schools. The First Nation government has its main administrative offices there. Other settlements used included Klukshu, Yukon. Many also live in Whitehorse where the First Nation government has offices. The language originally spoken by the Champagne and Aishihik people was Southern Tutchone.

The Champagne and Aishihik First Nations was one of the first four First Nations to sign a land claims agreement in 1992. The First Nation is also pursuing a land claim in its traditional territory in the northwestern corner of British Columbia.

External links

• Champagne and Aishihik First Nations web site
• Government of Canada’s Department of Indian and Northern Affairs First Nation profile

From their website:

In 1993, after more than 20 years of negotiations, CAFN’s rights to the Yukon portion of its traditional lands and resources were finally confirmed with the signing of the Champagne and Aishihik First Nations Final Agreement between CAFN, the Government of Canada and the Government of Yukon. Land claim negotiations concerning the portion of CAFN territory within BC are as yet incomplete, but in the interim, an innovative and precedentsetting agreement between the BC government and CAFN has been reached which provides for joint management authority of the newly created Tatshenshini-Alsek Park.

The road to the Yukon Land Claim Agreement was a long and difficult one. Many Champagne and Aishihik members, beginning with the late Elijah Smith, provided creative leadership in initiating and negotiating an Umbrella Yukon Land Claim Agreement. Elijah organized the Yukon Native Brotherhood and, in 1973, he presented Together Today for our Children Tomorrow, a position paper on the Yukon comprehensive claim, to then Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau. CAFN was one of the first four Yukon First Nations to conclude their final agreements.

CAFN’s Dave Joe was the Chief Negotiator for the Council for Yukon Indians (now the Council of Yukon First Nations) was instrumental in completing the Yukon Umbrella Final Agreement. The late Harry Allen and Dorothy Wabisca, along with Chief Paul Birckel, were also key players in the successful negotiation of these groundbreaking agreements. CAFN’s Land Claim Agreement provides for the ownership of some 2,427 square kilometers of land. It also continues to provide guaranteed access to fish and wildlife resources. Most importantly, the agreement establishes the CAFN government as co-managers of all natural and cultural resources in its traditional territory. CAFN is now a full partner on the Kluane National Park Management Board, the Alsek Renewable Resources Council and has representation on numerous other regional and territorial boards that make recommendations on heritage, educational, environmental and economic issues. In addition, the self-government agreement provides CAFN with the power to enact laws on a wide range of matters affecting the rights of its citizens.

On September 17, 1998 the Champagne and Aishihik First Nations made history by passing three acts: the Income Tax Act, Fish and Wildlife Act, and the Traditional Pursuits Act. These acts became effective on January 1, 1999. A variety of municipal services, (housing, roads, water and sewer) as well as social services (health, nutrition, employment and training) are fully administered by the First Nations’ government. The Department of Lands and Resources, which also includes Heritage and Economic Development, manages CAFN’s traditional lands and integrates education and training of its citizens. CAFN has undergone radical change in the last 100 years. Not long ago, the Southern Tutchone people of this region lived as part of the land. Today, they are working on the establishment of their own government and CAFN is becoming the steward of its homeland as it builds a sustainable economy.

Wikipedia: excerpt from Indian Act:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Act

1885: Amended to prohibit religious ceremonies (such as potlatches)^[6]

WikiPedia: Potlatch

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potlatch

A potlatch^[1][2][3] is a festival ceremony practiced by Indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast in North America, along Pacific Northwest coast of the United States and the Canadian province of British Columbia. This includes Haida, Nuxalk, Tlingit, Tsimshian^[4], Nuu-chah-nulth,^[5] Kwakwaka’wakw^[6] and Coast Salish^[7] cultures. The word comes from the Chinook Jargon, meaning “to give away” or “a gift”. It is a vital part of indigenous cultures of the Pacific Northwest. It went through a history of rigorous ban by the Canadian government, and has been the study of many anthropologists.

The potlatch is a festival or ceremony practiced among Indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast. At these gatherings a family or hereditary leader hosts guests in their family’s house and hold a feast for their guests. The main purpose of the potlatch is the re-distribution and reciprocity of wealth.

During the event, different events take place, like either singing and dances, sometimes with masks or regalia, the barter of wealth through gifts, such as dried foods, sugar, flour, or other material things, and sometimes money. For many potlatches, spiritual ceremonies take place for different occasions. This is either through material wealth like foods and goods or immaterial things like songs, dances and such. For some cultures, like Kwakwaka’wakw, elaborate and theatrical dances are performed reflecting the hosts genealogy and cultural wealth they possess. Many of these dances are also sacred ceremonies of secret societies like the hamatsa, or display of family origin from supernatural creatures like the dzunukwa. Typically the potlatching is practiced more in the winter seasons as historically the warmer months were for procuring wealth for the family, clan, or village, then coming home and sharing that with neighbors and friends.

Within it, hierarchical relations within and between clans, villages, and nations, are observed and reinforced through the distribution or sometimes destruction of wealth, dance performances, and other ceremonies. The status of any given family is raised not by who has the most resources, but by who distributes the most resources. The hosts demonstrate their wealth and prominence through giving away goods. Chief O’wax̱a̱laga̱lis of the Kwagu’ł describes the potlatch in his famous speech to anthropologist Franz Boas, “We will dance when our laws command us to dance, and we will feast when our hearts desire to feast. Do we ask the white man, ‘Do as the Indian does?’ It is a strict law that bids us dance. It is a strict law that bids us distribute our property among our friends and neighbors. It is a good law. Let the white man observe his law; we shall observe ours. And now, if you come to forbid us dance, be gone. If not, you will be welcome to us.”

Celebration of births, rites of passages, weddings, funerals, namings, and honoring of the deceased are some of the many forms the potlatch occurs under. Although protocol differs among the Indigenous nations, the potlatch will usually involve a feast, with music, dance, theatricality and spiritual ceremonies. The most sacred ceremonies are usually observed in the winter.

It is important to note the differences and uniqueness among the different cultural groups and nations along the coast. Each nation, tribe, and sometimes clan has its own way of practicing the potlatch so as to present a very diverse presentation and meaning. The potlatch, as an overarching term, is quite general, since some cultures have many words in their language for all different specific types of gatherings. Nonetheless, the main purpose has and still is the redistribution of wealth procured by families.

History

Before the arrival of the Europeans, gifts included storable food (oolichan [candle fish] oil or dried food), canoes, and slaves among the very wealthy, but otherwise not income-generating assets such as resource rights. The influx of manufactured trade goods such as blankets and sheet copper into the Pacific Northwest caused inflation in the potlatch in the late eighteenth and earlier nineteenth centuries. Some groups, such as the Kwakwaka’wakw, used the potlatch as an arena in which highly competitive contests of status took place. In rare cases, goods were actually destroyed after being received. The catastrophic mortalities due to introduced diseases laid many inherited ranks vacant or open to remote or dubious claim—providing they could be validated—with a suitable potlatch.^[8]

The potlatch was a cultural practice much studied by ethnographers. “Potlatch is a festive event within a regional exchange system among tribes of the North pacific Coast of North America, including the Salish and Kwakiutl of Washington and British Columbia.”^{[citation needed]} Sponsors of a potlatch give away many useful items such as food, blankets, worked ornamental mediums of exchange called “coppers”, and many other various items. In return, they earned prestige. To give a potlatch enhanced one’s reputation and validated social rank, the rank and requisite potlatch being proportional, both for the host and for the recipients by the gifts exchanged. Prestige increased with the lavishness of the potlatch, the value of the goods given away in it.

Potlatch ban

Potlatching was made illegal in Canada in 1885^[9] and the United States in the late nineteenth century, largely at the urging of missionaries and government agents who considered it “a worse than useless custom”^{[citation needed]} that was seen as wasteful, unproductive which was not part of “civilized” values.^[10]

The potlatch was seen as a key target in assimilation policies and agendas. Missionary William Duncan wrote in 1875 that the potlatch was “by far the most formidable of all obstacles in the way of Indians becoming Christians, or even civilized.”^[11] Thus in 1885, the Indian Act was revised to include clauses banning the potlatch and making it illegal to practice. The official legislation read, “Every Indian or other person who engages in or assists in celebrating the Indian festival known as the “Potlatch” or the Indian dance known as the “Tamanawas” is guilty of a misdemeanor, and shall be liable to imprisonment for a term not more than six nor less than two months in a jail or other place of confinement; and, any Indian or other person who encourages, either directly or indirectly an Indian or Indians to get up such a festival or dance, or to celebrate the same, or who shall assist in the celebration of same is guilty of a like offence, and shall be liable to the same punishment.”

Eventually it became amended to be more inclusive as earlier discharged on technicalities. Legislation was then expanded to include guest who participated in the ceremony. The indigenous people were too large to police, and enforce. Duncan Campbell Scott convinced Parliament to change the offense from criminal to summary, which meant ‘the agents, as justice of the peace, could try a case, convict, and sentence.”^[12]

Continuation

Sustaining the customs and culture of their ancestors, indigenous people now openly hold potlatch to commit to the restoring of their ancestors’ ways. Potlatch now occur frequently and increasingly more over the years as families reclaim their birthright.

See also

• Koha, a related concept among the Māori
• Kula ring, a similar concept in the Trobriand Islands (Oceania)
• Moka, another similar concept in Papua New Guinea
• Sepik Coast exchange, yet another similar concept in Papua New Guinea
• Guy Debord, French Situationist writer on the subject of potlatch and commodity reification.
• Gift economy

Ivana poses with the two lovely ladies at the Teslin National Wildlife refuge info center. They talked Athabascan between them, while working on some nice handicrafts. Visit the center if you can and say hi from us