Why do Indian masks stick out their tongues?

Guardian totem pole at Ksan.

Wooden eyes of two guardian totem poles watch all those who enter the village. The faces are piled one on the top of the other, an eagle sitting on a head of a bear, a killer whale balancing on its nose. All this in a valley surrounded by snowy mountains, the totem poles look very picturesque with the distant peaks in the background.

The village is called Ksan and belongs to Gitksan people, but they don't live there. They built it as a tourist attraction because they were annoyed by questions like “Do you still live in wigwams?” The Gitksan never lived in wigwams. Today they live in houses like all other Canadians but for the sake of tourists they built a few houses like those in which their ancestors lived a century ago. These are solid plank houses that are entered through totem poles – through an open mouth of some fantastic creature or between its legs. This new old village is a museum, objects used by Indians in the old days are collected there. In one of those houses is a carving school in which young Indians learn how their ancestors carved fantastic creatures. Even when the young people are not there, a carver is there anyway carving another piece for the souvenir shop next door.

One can talk to the carver, he doesn't mind that. I guess he is there to talk to visitors, he has ready answers to most questions, very likely most of those questions he has heard many times before. For example the question about wigwams. I myself don't like to ask questions, I always find that the most interesting things I learn when somebody says something without being asked. Only this way on can learn something totally unexpected. But one has to start the conversation somehow, so I have to ask about something. Anyway' I would like somebody to tell me something about potlatch.

Reconstructed Indian village of Ksan.

“It is a legal system” says the carver. “In the old days it was like this: important decisions were announced during a potlatch and anybody who was present there was a witness. He could always say: I was there and this is the present I received at this occasion. A potlatch was given at various occasions, for example when a totem pole was raised. In the old days a totem pole was raised gradually, it took seven days to raise it. During that time anyone could protest if he thought that the person raising the pole didn't have right to include certain symbols in it. A totem pole can include only these symbols to which the owner is entitled. If this is not the case, a rightful owner of the symbol can come and protest – 'you have to eradicate this animal, you have no right to this crest'. Crests are not just symbols, a crest can give you right to use this or that piece of land, to hunt in this wood or fish in this river. A totem was like a coat of arms, everybody could see from afar what clan lived in a given house. Today nobody puts up a totem pole in front of his house but clans are still important. During a potlatch clans sit at their own tables.”

“Tables?” I exclaim. “Did they use tables in a longhouse?”

“No no, it was different then. Today potlaches don't take place in longhouses. Today they are in a community centre and everybody sits at a table.”

“Potlatch” is a strange word. It is used in literature as if everybody knew what it was, so nowhere it is properly explained. I came across this word for the first time in the seventies in a book by Marcel Mauss, a French anthropologist. There I could work out that it was a ceremony celebrated by Indians of the west coast of Canada and that during this ceremony a chief gave away all his possessions as presents. It was all very interesting and a long philosophical deliberation followed, but there was no information for what occasion the feast was held, what the procedure of the ceremony was, nothing about the fate of the chief who suddenly became a beggar.

An Indian carver with his work.

Sitting next to the carver I watch him carve, don't ask many questions. Every now and again other tourists enter and, of course, ask questions. Not necessarily about wigwams (although the carver himself told me that he hears this question every so often), but about what they see, for example the composition. I can hear the carver say, showing the shape he had just carved: “We call it an ovoid”. At this point something clicks in my head. Who does he mean when he says “we”? “We Indians”? Or perhaps “We Gitskan”? The word “ovoid” does not come from the Gitskan language. It is an English word created relatively recently and as it happens I know who used it for the first time. I know it because I did prepare myself for this journey. I haven't read much about the potlatch but I did read a lot about the art of Indian carving an so I know that the word “ovoid” was introduced in a book written by Bill Holm and published in 1965. A book about the art that flourished among the Indians of British Columbia for centuries, not only of totem poles but also of two-dimensional compositions carved or painted on house walls or wooden chests. These compositions were always made up of characteristic shapes, not quite rectangles, not quite ovals but something in between. This shape was called “ovoid” by Bill Holm. It is a very useful term if one talks about this art in the way the art critics do, if this art is bought and sold, exhibitions are organised, if it functions the way art does function in the western civilisation. But did the Indians in the old days have exhibitions, art critics, souvenir shops? The carver is an Indian but he sees his own art through the eyes of a modern Canadian. Which is hardly surprising as in all probability he went to school like all modern Canadians. I am allowed to take a picture of the carver and his work when the piece is finished. The piece wont be used in a potlatch, though. It goes straight to the shelf in the souvenir shop next door.

Indian masks in the Anthropology Museum in Vancouver.

In the old days some of these works of art were shown only during a potlatch. In the Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver there is a big collection of carved in wood and painted masks that used to be shown only when used in dances. Grotesque not-quite-human faces or heads of birds with monstrous beaks, painted in bright colours, all now crowded in glass cabinets so crowds of spectators can see. Interestingly the descriptions themselves inform the viewer that these objects weren't made to be ogled by crowds like that, they used to be kept hidden and only used for the performance of dances that were dramatic illustrations of old myths. One of the descriptions states that all those masks were lawfully purchased from chief James Knox, who used the money for a good cause. It appears that the museum is concerned that somebody may ask some embarrassing questions.

Those concerns are not at all unsubstantiated. Collections like this found their way to museums when potlatch was illegal in Canada and the police confiscated artefacts used for it. Later, when the ban was revoked, the Namgis Indians sued the government of Canada and got the confiscated masks back. Today those masks are exhibited in U'mista Cultural Centre in Alert Bay on a tiny island in the North of British Columbia.

The description in the Anthropological Museum stresses that chief James Knock sold those masks out of his own free will. But why did chief James Knox agree to sell them? Perhaps he, too, saw them with the eyes of a white man – as archaeological objects which can be viewed any time, whenever one wants to?

Wooden eyes painted in bright colours look at viewers from behind the glass. Some of the masks look as if they wanted to say something but the viewer couldn't understand. Others give an impression that they decided long ago that the viewer won't understand anything and just stick out their tongues at him.

You will find this text, 
and many more on the subject, 
in my book "DO THEY STILL LIVE IN WIGWAMS?":

Paddling to Bella Bella

Boats in Alert Bay

“Gilakasla, gilakasla.”

The Namgis elders on the shore welcome the incoming boats. Canoes with mystical creatures painted on them approach the beach, several paddlers in each canoe, their conical hats plaited from cedar bark. The paddles, richly decorated, at the very last moment are lifted overhead. Skippers of each boat stand up one by one and in flowery speeches ask for the permission to land. The elders on the shore in no less flowery language ask them to come ashore. They stand in front of a bighouse on the roof of which somebody wearing a mask with a huge beak dances an eagle dance.

“Gilakasla.”

All this takes place on one of the numerous islands in the Northern Pacific Ocean in a village called Alert Bay. These islands are covered in temperate rainforest, huge centuries-old cedars grow there. Local Indians made sea-going canoes from these cedars and from the bark they made clothing and hats. Cedars planks were used to build traditional bighouses. Some of the approaching canoes are actually made the traditional way from cedar trunks.

In the evening the paddlers are invited to the bighouse for reception. They start with a big meal with local Indian specialities, especially smoked salmon caught in rivers here. Salmon comes every year here in huge numbers to spawn, when it is enough to stand in the river and with the open mouth – the fish will just jump in. This is exactly what the local grizzly bears do. There are also other specialities, like herring roe stuck to fir twigs. Herrings spawn close to the shore, the Namgis know where they come every year and leave the twigs at the bottom of the sea where the newly laid eggs get stuck. But the most praised food is candlefish oil. They say this fish is so oily when coming to the rivers to spawn that when dried it could be used as candles. Indians say that this oil is especially delicious and during potlatches it is a very special gift. The paddlers supper is not a potlatch but like a potlatch it is given in a bighouse and there are dances after supper as well. Various dances, big painted wooden masks are used, dancers in coats of many colours come to the central area around the fire. There is hamatsa dance in which young boys covered only in bunches of cedar bark howl like cannibals. Dance of women who are supposed to calm down the boys in this way so they can become human. Paddlers dance in which the dancers wave their paddles as if they were in a boat. A dance of Bukwas, a malicious forest spirit into which those whose canoe capsized and who managed to reach an unknown shore are turned. Because a dugout canoe can capsize in the ocean. What then?

Rooftop eagle dance

Paddling in a dugout canoe in the ocean is not a joke. Two of the boats that were expected at Alert Bay that day did not arrive. When the wind blew stronger and the waves grew higher the boats capsized and the paddlers had to swim for safety. They didn't have to swim to unknown shores because a motorized boat followed them and could rescue them all. Although the boats themselves did not arrive, the paddlers could be present in the bighouse to enjoy food and dance.

All these canoes go to Bella Bella, an Indian village situated on another island, farther to the north. A big rally is planned there two weeks from now, canoes from all direstions will arrive there. Tlingit Indians will paddle from Alaska, Haida Indians from Queen Charlotte Islands, Quinault Indians from Washington State, Chinook Indians all the way from Oregon. They are already on their way, those from Oregon have been paddling for a week by now.

There was a time when dugouts were the main means of transport in this archipelago. Made from a single tree trunk, the sea-going canoes were big, some could contain up to 20 paddlers. Centuries-old cedars growing in the virgin forests on these islands reached huge size. Indian boat makers carved the whole boat from a single trunk but they knew the way of changing its shape, for example they made it wider by pushing gunwales apart. They discovered that the wood becomes pliable in hot water so they poured water into the carved-out boat, then threw red-hot stones into it and when the water boiled – pushed the gunwales out. It wasn't just a mechanical thing, building a boat was a sacred activity and there was ritual connected to it. The boat maker had to do his job with love, a boat was considered to be a jealous woman. He had to leave his wife for the period of building a boat and the boat could take revenge if he wasn't faithful to her. There are stories about a boat that split in two when the builder conceived a child while building her. Haida Indians were famous as creators of the most beautiful boats, they built them for sale to other tribes. Trade in goods carried in these boats was conducted in the whole archipelago and even farther, along the west coast of North America from Alaska to Oregon. Not everything was so peaceful, however. Traditional Indians costume in these parts was wooden armour complete with wooden helmet carved in a shape of a fantastic creature. This armour wasn't just for decoration; head hunting was about as widespread as trade. Catching slaves was also popular, stolen women would vanish beyond the horizon carried away in swift canoes, never to be seen again.

Welcoming the paddlers in Alert Bay.

Incredibly, the swift canoes were also used for whaling. This wasn't a widespread practice, only Nootka Indians from the west coast of Vancouver Island did this. Their boats weren't big enough to pull the dead whale in, the carcass had to be towed to the beach. The heart had to be pierced with the first strike, otherwise the animal would escape. The whale hunt was also a sacred activity and there was ritual connected with it. The crew of the canoe prepared for this for a long time, they had to act as a single organism. Before the hunt they went into the woods for meditation, they fasted together and bathed in ice cold water. The chief was supposed to throw the harpoon and his wife was supposed to fast when he was out on the sea. In her meditation she was supposed to identify with the whale so the whale would fall in love with her husband and would want to be close to him.

All this was long ago, today nobody needs to use paddling canoes. Today Indians on their reservations live like other Americans, they have cars and motorboats and if necessary they can take a car on a ferry and this way vanish beyond the horizon. Why on earth does anybody want to paddle for several weeks risking a swim in ice-cold water when seas get rough and the canoe gets capsized?

The official reason is – to keep the tradition alive. This interest in tradition is partly caused by scholars, who came from big cities and paid a lot of money for old artefacts. Carvers who for years had no orders from their traditional clients received commissions to carve new totem poles for museums. When, however, a museum wanted to build a new canoe the traditional way – it turned out that there is nobody who knew how to do it, although there were still some people who witnessed the boats being made. Bill Reid, a Haida artist who lived in Vancouver, decided to build a new canoe using all the information he could get. Not only that – in 1987 a team of paddlers delivered this boat to the village of Skidagate on Queen Charlotte Islands.

Dancers in Alert Bay.

This was the beginning. Other people from other tribes built similar boats and in 1993 the first rally in Bella Bella was organised. This year (2014) the second rally takes place and purely by accident I am in Alert Bay on the day when the paddlers stop here on their way to Bella Bella. On the spur of the moment I decide to follow them for a couple of days, first to Fort Rupert on the next day and then to Port Hardy on the following day. In Fort Rupert the paddlers are received in a bighouse like in Alert bay, but in Port hardy there is no bighouse and the paddlers are received in the community centre. The local dancers don't perform there because the elders had just passed away and the village is in mourning but the paddlers themselves perform traditional songs of their tribes. In between songs some people give speeches in the characteristic manner of Indian public speaking. This is the time when group leaders announce important decisions. For example the leader of a group of paddlers from the Squamish reservation said this:

“A very difficult passage is in front of us. When years ago I was entering this passage, I was very scared. We have to respect waters. Then I made peace with the Maker, I said good bye to my children, this is how scared I was. I have 21 people in our canoe family, their lives are in my hands. I have my grand uncle in our support boat. We have elders in our support boat, they will not be able to rescue us all if anything should happen. Therefore I decided that this is as far as our team is going. We are not going to continue. We are still a canoe family, no matter what we do. We are not going to pick up a bottle or alcohol when we return. We are a canoe family all year round...”

At this point I realised that there are no drunk Indians in this crowd...

Canoes on the beach.

You will find this text, 
and many more on the subject, 
in my book "DO THEY STILL LIVE IN WIGWAMS?":