I'm back from the mountains. Just got back Monday afternoon. Stayed longer than I had planned.
Saturday morning, I had arrived at my friend's apartment around 9 a.m., ready to load our cars. She still had things to sort through and pack, but I had both of our cars packed with all of her essential belongings by 2:00, and then we were on the road.
We arrived at our motel room by 7 p.m. I learned what an emotional day it had been for her, leaving her apartment, leaving much behind in storage, and leaving so much more than I can even talk about here.
When a person reaches a point in life that changes have to be made, sometimes there is little we can do to stop it. Sometimes, greater powers are at work in our minds and in our hearts, pushing us to move from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from what holds us back to what frees us, from what deadens us to what gives us life. When this happens, it isn't always joyous. It isn't without pain. I witnessed this first hand as I helped my friend move.
The above photo shows her view of the Great Smoky Mountains from the back deck of her new temporary home. I shot it this morning, as a fog drifted between the mountains. You can see a pleasant and gentle stream running through her backyard as well. This is what she will see every morning first thing.
Sunday morning, after I had unloaded the contents of both cars into her home, we went out for lunch, then she drove me around to show me the sights. She said I didn't come all the way up here just to haul boxes.
One stop included the greatest surprise. I would never have found it without her. Indigo, you will find this especially interesting.
She drove us (she needs crutches to walk, but she can drive well enough) through Cherokee, down the strip on Big Cove Road (Hwy 441 N). It's a veritable tourist trap there, both sides of the street are lined with stores selling souvenirs and 'crafts'. You can spend a lot of money on junk if you are not careful, but there are some genuine shops that sell authentic Cherokee handmade objects, if you know where to find them. She knows where they are.
She pulled into one shopping center in Saunooke Village, which looked like all the other shopping centers along the road. She told me we were going to a museum. We walked past several souvenir joints, and came to the Cherokee Heritage Museum and Gallery.
If you are ever in Cherokee, and you want to see authentic Cherokee/Native American art, or you want to talk to someone who can give you historical information about Native American art, this is the museum you must not pass up. Walking into this little shop is like an illusion. It looks like a gift shop on the outside, but upstairs are the treasures of ancient history.
Like I said, downstairs it looks like a book store/crafts shop, but if you want something more substantial and want to learn about the culture and history of the Cherokee Nation, talk to Dr. Michael Abram. (look closely, he's in the photograph) He has created a guided tour from thousands of Cherokee objects: stone sculpture, paintings, masks, clothing items, weapons, and other artifacts he has collected/purchased over the years. For $5 he will lead you up the stairs, give you a personal introduction about how the guided tour works, and then send you on your way. A taped history, narrated by the good doctor himself, leads you through each display. The entire tour takes about one hour. There are chairs to sit on if you get tired of standing.
I came away with the distinct feeling that this place is overlooked and under-rated. After the tour, I expressed to him my appreciation for the years of research and collecting he had to have done to gather such a collection. He is living proof how one man can make a difference in the world, a little piece at a time.
He is easy to talk to. As museum curators, he and his wife also give lectures. Truly a fascinating person to talk with, but mostly you will want to listen to him. He told me to come back sometime and he'd show me some things that aren't even on display... he has much more stored away because he lacks the space in the building. Can you imagine? A museum holding such valuable and important historical articles such as these, and there isn't enough space to put them all on display.
Another stop we made was just a few miles from her home. Kituhwa Mound. When you drive by, you will think you are passing an ordinary farm field with an extraordinary view and corn planted in patches around it.
(My friend is learning the Cherokee language, and knows the sounds of the letters. They look like English letters, but the letters don't make the same sounds as our letters. Kituhwa is pronounced Guh-doo-ah, with accent on the 2nd syllable, doo, she told me.)
If you stop by for a closer look, however, you will notice a rise in the center of the fenced in area, about five feet high, barely a small hill. This mound marks a holy Cherokee site, Kituhwa, which once was the foundation of a building that held the sacred flame from which all other ceremonial flames were carried. It burned continuously, a symbol of the Cherokee life. "It is said to be the place where God came to give laws to humans," and where the Cherokee people began.*
I felt a sense of reverence as we walked along a dirt path that paralleled the mound. My friend reminded me that we were walking on the dust of the Cherokee ancestors. I thought about picking up a rock and taking it with me, but decided not to. I did not want to disrespect this place.
Check the link I provided if you would like to read more about Kituhwa. I think Kate, as an archaeologist, would be interested in the problems the local Cherokee people have had trying to preserve this holy land.
As we were leaving Kituhwa,the The Great Smoky Mountain Train Ride passed through. Good thing they were traveling slowly... my friend and I were so absorbed by our conversation, we nearly didn't see it. The conductor warned us with a steamy hornblow to back away from the tracks. Got our attention! I took photos of the tourists waving at us as they rode by. You can see some of them taking pictures of the Kituhwa mound.
Monday morning, it was time for me to leave. I left my friend, surrounded by the misted, mystical Smoky Mountains. She thanked me for all I had done, and we hugged our goodbyes. She drove ahead of me to guide me back to the main highway, then waved at me as she pulled off onto an exit. I returned the wave and watched her car disappear among the trees, like a deer sprinting back into the forest.
As I drove down from the mountains, heading East for my own home in the Piedmont of NC, I felt a bit numb at first. Thoughts parried for my attention. An hour away from Cherokee, I was finally able to decipher what had actually happened, translating it into metaphorical language, a language I understand much easier than real life terms.
For some reason I had been called into service to help her make the move. Had she not had the knee surgery during the same week I was at the coast discovering sea clay, she would not have needed my help this week. It all happened so fast, and I felt like I was along for the ride.
I say this with a humble attitude, for I was honored to be part of her journey. This was her mountain journey, not mine. I was merely the boatman, carrying the weary, wounded traveler across a wide river so she could get to the other side to continue her sojourn.
For a brief few days, I was her traveling companion much like a servant/friend. I pondered what I had learned, what I had seen and heard, the stories she had shared with me. Truly, I felt privileged to be part of this segment of her journey to something larger than herself, and something new.
I know that her knee will heal, she will adjust to her new location, and she will make new friends. She has a dream to follow. I pray that she finds peace and joy. May God bless her and keep her safe.
We will keep in touch. We must keep in touch.
Besides, come September, there is an NCCAT seminar called "Celebrating Diversity through Art" to be held in Cullowhee... I'm signing up for it tomorrow!
*Historical facts about the Kituhwa Mound were written by Student Researcher Matt Hooley found at the Manataka American Indian Council Sacred Sites Watch: http://www.manataka.org/page1938.html
