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Sask. powwows held up by COVID-19

Olivia (Biya) Eyahpaise has attended powwows since learning to walk, and planned the same for her newborn daughter until the events were cancelled this year.

Olivia (Biya) Eyahpaise has attended powwows since learning to walk, and planned the same for her newborn daughter until the events were cancelled this year.

Eyahpaise, who lives on the Beardy’s and Okemasis Cree Nation about 90 kilometres north of Saskatoon, will now spend her first summer without the circuit of family visits, songs and dances she grew up with as restrictions on public gatherings cancel powwows across the province.

“The whole experience is something that I will miss, the whole celebration. But we need to stay safe,” she said. “Can you imagine what joy of celebration we will have and how hard we will dance in victory once this sickness passes?”

As the usual start of powwow season at the end of May nears, she already misses pulling up to take in the peaks of camp teepees, the ring of jingles and bells, and the smell of food wafting from campfires and vendors’ stalls.

Those sights are unlikely to return soon. The Federation of Sovereign Indigenous First Nations decided on Tuesday to suspend its large November powwow, Spirit of our Nations.

Chris Scribe, director of the Indian Teacher Education Program at the University of Saskatchewan, said disrupting that lifelong part of Indigenous identity has left a sense of loss.

“We’re in a weird space where we’re feeling disrupted attending these songs, dances and social gatherings with our Indigenous relatives and our family,” he said.

“But it’s also allowing us to reflect on how much that means to us and our families, and how much of a void that is when it’s gone.”

He misses seeing his children dance, but also believes this is a chance for reflection, he said. Powwows in the 1970s and ’80s would be held once or twice per month, and contemporary events are usually held almost every weekend.

Slowing that fast pace may be an opportunity to connect with other things like grandparents and storytelling, he said, noting that it also isn’t illegal to dress in regalia and sing or drum, as it once was.

“Look up ‘resilient’ in the dictionary, you’re going to find Indigenous people,” Scribe said. “We have overcome all types of obstacles throughout our life, continuing to battle colonialism and all of the factors that come from that.”

There’s nothing stopping someone from pulling out a drum or regalia and singing alone, he added.

Ryan Daniels agrees. As the lead singer of the group Smooth Style from One Arrow First Nation, he’s been attending powwows for about 12 years.

He plans to pass the pandemic by singing every day — it calms him, and keeps him active while away from the powwows, he said.

The part of them he’ll miss most is supporting host communities and performing for anyone who was sick, unable to sing, or had died. He looks forward to the sense of accomplishment that will come from bringing them all together again.

“It’s not just for one person. It’s for all people.”