A red ball rolling

It was May of 2011. While making jewelry I would listen and peek at the computer: many biographies, history, quantum physics, the amazing Universe, or any program that would enrich my brain. Next, it was the documentary that would change it all for me: "The West" by Ken Burns.
Someone was about to show me something I had been waiting to know for a long time, like an initiation of some sort. 

Only two times before in my life had that happened:
Once, when I took a personal growth seminar when I was 18, and a second time, after surgery, in my twenties, when I had a very intense dream that showed me some significant information. This proved to be the third time.

Don't take me wrong, it's not like I didn't have a general idea of what happened with Native People, but the realization that my view was (and is) tinted and lacking information, made me ashamed. I started to see the world in a different way. How come I had heard so much of the Jewish Holocaust and not about the extermination of so many different tribes in the Americas? How come this information was not openly available? Had I not been paying attention? Wasn't I ready then? 

My brain couldn't stop the avalanche of thoughts and questions...                                                                                                                                        

I contemplated the imperfections of the human race, I experienced many different feelings and none of them were pretty, nor did I want to stay and linger in that for much longer. Nevertheless, I would be in for more heartbreak without knowing it yet.

Needless to say, I spent the next five days researching about Native People "today". Where were they? What were they doing? I mean, were there actually any Natives left alive?

Serendipity is a process where everything aligns at a certain point in time and space, intention comes forward, and thoughts and answers start taking place and manifesting physically. 

Three days after that door opened, my heart still sore and heavy from the just discovered "news", I received a call, letting me know that Arvol Looking Horse was in town. His daughter was finishing high school, and he and his family had come for a visit. This was a time when it was all so surreal, I didn't know what to make of it, when I knew that I had to look in, and dig deep to find out why this red ball was rolling towards me. 

We were casually invited to assist to "World Peace and Prayer Day"  in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, which would be taking place June 21st. 2012.  Just like that, I was embarking on one of the most enriching experiences of my life, without knowing why, it seemed a part of me knew, I just didn't.

Arvol and Paula Looking-Horse and me, 2012. 

I thought I was educated

We all remember this guy in the picture. To me, he was a hero, the one and only adventurous man, the one that discovered America, and saved the Indians. Or so did my 1st. grade books said.
I'll tell you a story, it all started like...

This one girl went to a Catholic school in South America. Through the years, she was taught that there was a man from Spain, the "Motherland", devoted to the Queen and King of Spain and his religion, that brought civilization & progress to the 'savages'. 

He was a good man, advanced, determined. Those poor lost souls that had recently been "discovered", were naked. He gave them clothes, they did not know our God, our religion, and our Bible, he brought salvation and redemption to them.

In her school book, there was a page solely dedicated to the tortures that these savage Indians, would inflict on their victims with illustrations included. This was 1st-grade history after all. It is a true story and, it is my own.

I always wondered if the nuns did not know what happened with Columbus and the Indians, if their ideology had them turn blind, if they chose to look the other way, or if they knew, and just had to keep passing the indoctrination to their little herd, because, after all, there's only ONE Savior, according to Catholics. I will never know. Or I might one day...

The bottom line is that after all those years of having that wiring in my brain about Columbus, one day, four years ago, I was watching Ken Burns documentaries, "The West" and all hell broke loose within. 

I just couldn't believe all the details that the nuns forgot to tell us kids...

Why on earth did no one mention anything about these atrocities before? Why has this information being concealed from the public that even at "Barnes and Noble" there were more books about The Holocaust than Colonization and genocide. What is going on in here?

Immediately all the blame went to Columbus of course, but he was only the one man in charge of a mission, and there were so many more like him doing the same thing: exploring, expanding, looking for new land, and oh! I almost forgot: gold. 

After all, aren't we all geared towards growth in any way or form? 

My sources of history seemed somewhat nonexistent in this area, and the ones I got presented with, were probably tinted with the Hollywood hue. I remember "1492", "The Mission" and "Black Robe" to name a few...  

All of them broke my heart, perpetuating the idea of what being an Indian meant in those times of expansion.

Those times were tough, I thought to myself, how terrifying it must have been: they killed them all. I confess that living in my little protected bubble, It never occurred to me that there are still many  aboriginal, indigenous, native, first nations people alive today. 

I found out that the majority struggle with the consequences of the cruelty of non-stop colonization that systematically tried (and keeps trying now a days) to force them into an alien culture and religious practice. 

I went on a mission of learning. Honestly, I thought it was an initiation of some sort. I had this urgency,  finding out where the Indians were today. What had happened to them? Where do they live? How many Nations are there? Then, in summer 2011, I planned a trip to a rez, any rez.  

I didn't know exactly how was I going to get there, or what was I going to find, I didn't know anyone related to native people, all I knew is that I was going to find out, how, and when, and "whys" of whatever I did not know...it was a call within.