A strong centre

My first night in the yurt, the temperature outside reached-50C. The yurt is a circular, well insulated Mongolian style tent with a stove in the middle. In the day, it is used by acupuncturists and massage therapists to give treatments. Misha and I used the massage couches as beds. Thankfully, I was warm, actually very cosy.  Every time one of us woke, we would stoke the fire. When I opened the door in the morning, the sky was rosy with the dawn. Wood smoke rose from tipis in every direction. It was good to be here.

The insulation panels arrived and the kitchen is now half lined, making it feel much warmer and more solid too. I will be buying some rubber flooring mats out of the donated funds, which will make the floor less slippery and help to insulate from the cold. Also on the shopping list are carbon monoxide alarms, as there are so many stoves and heaters on site.

Yesterday, I heard that a woman was arrested on Turtle Island, the sacred burial site, close to where DAPL are constructing. The pipeline lights are constantly turned upon the camp. Helicopters continue to circle, day and night. I also heard that camp drones got footage of two or three DAPL drill bits breaking in the frozen ground over the last week or so. This represents a significant financial cost to DAPL, for as well as the cost of replacing them, considerable penalties will be due to shareholders for every day their project goes over the January 1st deadline.

As the sun was low on the horizon, I went to the sweat lodge, the inipi, led by Donald Little Thunder, from the Sacred Hoop Camp on the Rosebud Reservation. Sitting on the earth, in the dark, the steam rising from the red-hot stones, with the beating of the drum and the singing of prayer songs, seeing glimpses of faces lit up by the fire outside, there was nothing to indicate whether this was 2016 or 1016. Prayers were said for the water and for the earth, for future generations, for families at home. Heartfelt prayers of apology were made for the colonisation of the Native American Nation, and the pain and suffering caused, and there were prayers too, asking for help with forgiving those people who caused it. Sacred chanupa pipes were passed around. For all the political discussions, for all the talk of ecological activism on the camp, this inipi and these prayers feel like the still centre at the heart of what is happening here at Standing Rock. There were many prayers for the DAPL workers and for their families. People prayed that there would be be a day when they would join us in the sweat lodge. Aho mitakuye oyasin. We are all related. There is no us and them.

It was so hot in the inipi, that I imagined rolling in the snow, but the minute I stepped outside, my feet actually burned with the cold and I realised that wasn't going to happen! Then we dressed and warmed ourselves by the roaring fire outside, watching the sparks dancing up into the night. Venus was radiant in the west, and clouds like whale ribs hung in the darkening sky.

I crossed the frozen Cannonball river one evening, to visit the Navajo Hoghan for dinner. Blue Lightening, a Shoshone elder from the Wind River reservation, spoke to the group gathered there. 'I tell people who visit us on the reservations, don't ask so many questions. Why don't you just observe what we do and learn that way, instead of letting your energy go all over the place with all those questions.' She spoke calmly and intently. 'Keep yourself together. Keep your focus. That's what Spirit wants from us.' She paused. 'We were given the gift of taking care of the environment. No one would listen to us. We won't have anything left: we get everything from Mother Earth. What are you going to leave behind?' She looked around the room. Behind her, three young women were patting out tortillas in their hands. 'Seven generations ahead, they will say we cared about them. We came here to protect the water.'

Blue Lightening made a prayer for the food, and spoke about how, when prepared with love, it is a medicine, that the potency of that medicine is increased when food is made by women, because of their connection to the earth. Dinner was served, a warming, spicy, lamb stew with mashed potato and the fresh corn tortillas. Elders and women and children were invited up first. Liz, the Navajo cook in the Hoghan, agreed to my coming to cook with them, once the straw bale project is completed.

Last night, temperatures rose and a west wind blew straight down the angled chimney, filling the yurt, and our lungs with smoke. Eventually, Meesha went for help, and Curly, the camp leader of the Sicangu Oyate tribe (Burnt Thigh Nation) arrived, accompanied by two young men. Within twenty minutes one had scaled the roof and taken off the top section of the chimney, all the while directed by Curly. The smoke flew straight up the chimney.

Heroes, most definitely! And all part of helping each other out, part of Standing Rock camp life.

The insulated yurt

Anis cooking in the half insulated kitchen