A drop in the ocean

Another blizzard was on its way. Down by the riverside at Rosebud, seven men and Angela were swinging axes, splitting large slabs of tree into logs. They spurred each other on as they worked. They had a mountain of wood to get through and the camp was going to need it over the next few days. The morning had started off sunny and blue, but now the skies were white as the clouds ran together and I started to wonder if I should leave the camp today instead of early next morning. Blizzards have their own timing, no matter what the forecast says. My flight was leaving from Bismarck at lunchtime the next day. It would be good to have a shower before I arrived in Minneapolis, where I would be staying with friends and family. I decided I would book into a hotel and leave as soon as I had packed.

I went to gather my things from Danielle's tarpee, where I had been staying. A 'tarpee' is a variation on a tipi, invented especially for the harsh winters of Standing Rock by Paul Cheyok'ten Wagner. It has a flat, closed top which fits around a stove pipe. Polytarp replaces canvas and hide, and beams are used rather than poles. It is much cheaper to build than a traditional tipi. Danielle had decorated her tarpee with colourful banners and lined the inside with blankets and hanging clothes to help provide insulation. In front of the barrel stove there was a simple altar, with sage and cedar and jars of water collected from different rivers around the continent. I had slept well here. I'd become used to hearing the wind howl outside at night and to loading another log on the fire whenever I woke; it had quickly felt like home.

As I was packing, Danielle took a call from a woman who had been hit in the face at a gas station in Bismarck. Somebody had recognised that she came from Standing Rock. This was not the first time I had heard about hostilities from locals towards the water protectors away from the front lines, but it was a sobering reminder, especially as I was heading out that way. I had heard of people being followed and arrested simply for being at Standing Rock.

I said goodbye to Danielle, to Anis and James and to Curly. There were so many I would not see, but it was getting late and I needed to make a move. I took some bars of chocolate over to the wood choppers. 'Let's not say goodbye,' said Angela. 'Let's say bama pi, or 'until later.' 'Bama pi,' I agreed, and we gave each other a bear hug.

I looked over at the River Canonball. This river, this water, now frozen, was the reason I had come out to North Dakota. I'd come to stand for clean water all over the world. I'd come for the people protecting and praying for it, I'd come to stand with the Native Americans, the caretakers of their continent and of this earth, people who'd been willing to give their lives if necessary. As I drove the endless straight roads to Bismarck, I thought about how welcoming and kind the Lakota people had been to me, about how many remarkable, brave, resilient and good hearted people I had met at Standing Rock, too many to say goodbye to. I thought of the coming year and of the uncertainties and challenges which lie ahead. I didn't know if I would ever see the river or those people again, but I knew that they would all be in my thoughts and my prayers. I had been one of many, as the constellation of people at Standing Rock is ever changing. What I had done felt small in many ways; five people had been arrested while I was there and there were many who were staying indefinitely. I hadn't stood on the front lines, but I had taken my body there, cooked and raised funds, listened, written and prayed. I had been a tiny drop in an ocean, but then after all, that is what an ocean is made up of: droplets.

The receptionist at the hotel welcomed me. 'What brings you to Bismarck on New Year's Eve?' 'Well, I came out to visit Standing Rock,' I answered, after the briefest of hesitations. The friendly expression fell from her face. 'You were with the protestors?' 'Yes, I travelled from England to help protect the water.' She looked away, towards the computer screen. 'I actually have family who work on the security teams out there.' The subject was most definitely closed. Hoping she wouldn't call anyone out to arrest me, and feeling how exhausted I was, I made my way to my room, where I showered and washed the dirt and smoke from my body and my hair, feeling thankful for every drop of warm water that fell upon me. 

The frozen Cannonball River

My battered notebooks

Tarpees in the snow