June 15, 2009 Part 2

June 15 Part 2

"JuJu"

After we finished the loop we headed to Glacier, MT. Already running a little late, we ran into a severe weather system and had to pull over to the side of the road for two rounds of hail. (pea to dime sized) With the time we had, we realized that we couldn't make it all the way to Glacier. After a looking through her guidebook, Shelby made a few calls and found a hostel with 24 hr check-in in Bozeman. Best decision EVER!

We walked into a congregation of seven boarders in the living room. A teenage kid with curly dark hair playing the guitar, a couch-sleeping, dark-socked gentleman and a South Korean hiker dishing out a seaweed soup were among those that I noticed immediately. The manager was not around, but the other guests told us how to secure a room. After bringing our bags in, I found Shelby in the kitchen making friends. She has my mom's ability to talk to anyone. When I try it is forced, awkward, and shallow conversation. Shelby makes friends easily and with her lead I can follow suit.

Our new friends in the kitchen were: Tressa a blond braided child of the earth, whose husband, Ben, we were told, was the dark-socked couch-sleeper. Lisa and Michiel (mee-heel), a couple in the middle of the move from Charlottesville, VA to Silverton, OR with their 2yr old son, Alexander, who at the time was asleep upstairs. When we found out that Michiel was from the Netherlands [hence the (mee-heel)] I immediately told him in Dutch that I speak Dutch very well. (It is basically the only phrase that I know. Which I means that by nature I can really only count and lie in this language.) I began ordering various numbers of beers to assert my fluency. I threw in words like paardensnoopjes (pardon snow pias) which means horse candies and Kromsnavel (chrome snaffle) or curved beak. I then explained that my most recent Dutch lesson had come from a newspaper circular for a pet supply store. They thought this odd, but didn't hold it against me.

Tressa, meanwhile, was preparing a polenta crust pizza and casserole for the oven. when we said we were going to the car to get food to cook, she immediately offered to share her meal saying there would be more than enough. We accepted and as a similar gesture went on a beer and wine run. Thirty minutes later, over delicious polenta pizza, PBR and Cabernet Savignon , we sat in the living room and talked.

I talked with Michiel about The Netherlands (Not Holland. North and South Holland are regions of the Netherlands) He was from Groningen, a town that I am familiar with because I've taught improv there. Being from Groningen, not in either North or South Holland, had made him especially sensitive to the Holland Netherlands distinction. As it turns out, he had also lived in Hattem, the town where Shelby and I got engaged. Lisa, originally from Oregon, but also fluent in Dutch, seemed excited by the coincidence of meeting us.

Also, sharing food and spirits, were Tressa and Ben; Myong, a backpacking mountaineer; and a pair of 18yr old college kids, Matt and Woody. Woody, named for Woody Guthrie, was appropriately the one playing his guitar when we came in. The two were on a "vacation" from their first tumultuous year at Humboldt State University in northern California. Their plan was to take the next semester off and see where their journey took them...to that I say, "Yikes!" When I heard that I cringed and thought How glad I was that I was neither 18 myself nor either of their parents.

Matt and Woody...If you are reading this: Go for it. Don't trust anybody over 30 (I'm 32)

Everyone else: Yikes!

At some point Myong went to bed. The conversation continued and made its way from The Netherlands to college to our honeymoon plans to the environmental and energy crises. I think we all pretty much agreed on the nature of the problem, but our takes on the causes and solutions ranged from the Michiel's measured, practical and realistic, to my incredulous and idealistic, to Tressa's impassioned and Ben's Conspiratorial. For instance, Michiel mention the gas only vehicles in Europe that out perform American hybrids for mileage. Ben told us all about an inventor committed to an insane asylum because the energy companies wanted to suppress his zero emission, fuel-atomizing plasma engine.

Then things got interesting. The conversation must have lulled for a second, because Tressa got a look in her eye like she had brought us all there for a reason, kind of a reverse intervention. She looked at Ben almost for his blessing for he knew she was about to say.
"I'm going to get my basket."
She said to him. Then to us.
"I'm going to get my basket. I have some really great Juju that I want to share with you."
There was a collective, silent, "Ummm..."
"Is that O.K.?"
Shelby was the first to vocalize a response.
"Uh, yeah I, I guess I don't know what juju is."
"It's medicine." Ben assured us, as Tressa went to her room for her mysterious basket.
As Shelby and I discussed later, we both first thought that juju might be her term for an illegal substance that no one associated with this blog advocates, but that perhaps responsible adults can make their own decisions about.
I recognized the term juju, but did not consider the possibility that Tressa could be a voodoo priestess.
Tressa returned cradling a large wicker basket. She sat on the floor with her basket in front of her and began. (I paraphrase)
"This is a basket full of instruments and sacred objects that I would like to use to bless you with."
She began by burning sage or some type of fragrance brought it around the circle. She gave Shelby and I a kind of tangled locke of her own hair to use as nesting material. We asked all manner of questions in what seemed to me half way between polite indulgence and nervous tension breaking.
"What's this drum made of?"
"Where is this clay from?"
"What type of fur is that you are rubbing on my face?"
A sacred elk that has blessed us with his being. A River in Oregon. Beaver.

The latter answer she revealed only after the entire group had experience the facial fur rubbing. With a jaunty laugh she announced, "I just rubbed beaver on your face."
Lightheartedly aware of the double meaning, she explained a triple meaning and significance. That was that her last name was in fact Beaver.

Over the course of the ritual Tressa: passed drums around, sprinkled fairy dust over us from one of the fairy wands that she makes, worried that some one she might sell a wand to would use it for evil, wondered if the power of her goodness would even allow her creation to be used for evil, had us lick a salt rock from the Himalayas.

Apparently Ben can't get enough of the mineral, so he sucked for 30min on his own personal salt rock, swearing by it as a cure all.

At a certain point Ben said that he couldn't believe that some of his friends didn't believe in aliens. Tressa then stated without explanation that she had most assuredly been abducted by aliens.

The bulk of the ritual included Tressa painting our faces one at a time with clay while reciting a prayer and letting us draw cards depicting our power animal.

Secretly hoping for the Wolf, I drew the Lynx, which is, according to Tressa's book, the knower of secrets. Shelby was next. She did draw the Wolf. (Yikes.) The Wolf is a teacher. What!?!? (For those who don't know...Shelby IS a teacher. Yikes again.)

To finish the ceremony, we were invited to paint Tressa's face. Most of us obliged.

She thanked us all for allowing her to share her juju with us. The way she said it hinted that she knew we probably thought it was weird. I must admit I do not consider myself superstitious nor am I now a convert to any of the philosophies on which the ceremony drew. I would not characterize the experience as spiritual for me. A new experience. Yes. An interesting experience. Definitely. I would even call it fun. However, I later considered the experience that Tressa had. Her sincerity throughout the entire process was unquestionable and completely endearing. I have no doubt that it was a spiritual experience for Tressa. Who am I to deny her that?