The Fifth Dancer

I almost went to Custer County today to finish exploring it, but instead of going to the county named after Gen. George A. Custer, I went to the Red Earth Cultural Indian Festival in Oklahoma City, instead. Ironic, yes? It also turned out to be a great decision.

My son, Matt, once said life shouldn't be about collecting the best stuff, but about collecting the best stories. And, he wasn't talking about books from the library, but stories for your own life, things you could share or reminisce with others about or remember when you got older. I've always kind of liked that. Today, I collected a great story.

My Mom and I went to the Red Earth Cultural Indian Festival in Oklahoma City this afternoon. It was the last day of a three day event. More than 100 tribes were represented by artists, dancers, drummers, and singers from across the nation. Today seemed mostly to be about drum competition, award ceremonies, and the fancy dance competition.

The drum competition was interesting, but I have to admit, after about the third group, they all kind of sounded the same. I'm not sure how they were being judged. They also provided the beat and songs for the fancy dance competition later.

I didn't even know what a fancy dance was until today. However, I learned fancy dancers do not belong to any one tribe but it's a style of dancing. And, that particular style of dancing originated right here in Oklahoma with the Ponca tribe in the 1920s-1930s. It is typically a young man's dance or for someone in very good shape and with good reason. It's the fastest, brightest, and most energetic of all the men's dances and seeing splits, back flips and blinding footwork is not uncommon in this generally freestyle competition. There's also something called "ruffling" which is sort of like a shimmy where all their feathers are shaking.

Oh, yes, there are feathers. Lots and lots of feathers. I'm just going to have to throw a picture in here so you can see what it looks like. This was not taken at the Red Earth Festival in OKC, but is just to give you an idea of what they wore.

Anyway, out of all the 100 plus tribes across the nation participating at Red Earth, they had narrowed it down to the top ten fancy dancers. These were guys who had all won championships before as well. It was definitely not amateur hour. The dancers would compete in one last competition called a spotlight dance. Basically, the 10 judges sat in chairs forming a large sacred circle in the arena and the dancers would dance one at a time in the center of this sacred circle, with a spotlight on them.

They did not get to pick out their drum groups or song they would dance to. Instead, they selected the drum group out of a hat and the drum group chose the song. There were about six drum groups available to choose from. It was a totally free style event, and what makes it even a little more difficult is that the dancers are supposed to do a pose at each end of the beat. I found this out later, and, yes, it's relevant to the story.

Everything was going well until the fifth dancer. He started out great, but kept missing his beats and before the song was even over, he walked out of the circle and out of the arena, with his head hanging. All of this is pretty new to me and I really didn't know what was going on, but from what I gathered from people sitting around me, the drum group messed up and had ruined the dance for him. The audience was not happy. The emcee and some other guy in charge huddled together for a couple of minutes and then the emcee announced the fifth dancer would be given another song to dance to after everyone else had finished dancing. Then he said the judges wanted to remind the drum groups not to "over beat". I don't know what that meant exactly, but it seemed to satisfy the audience.

So the rest of the dancers danced and were amazing, but everyone was really kind of anxious to see what would happen when the fifth dancer came back out. I really wanted to see him do well. He came back out, walked through the circle, and went straight to where the emcee and one of the guys in charge were standing and had a rather lengthy conversation with them.

When the emcee finally let us in on what was happening, it turned out the fifth dancer had chosen to take himself out of the competition. He thought he had done the right thing by leaving the arena early, but he didn't think it would be fair to the other dancers for him to have a second song. He'd had his shot, just like they had had theirs. Instead, he asked to be allowed to do an exhibition dance out of love for the dance, out of respect for his fellow dancers and out of respect to those who had come out to see the dancers. The judges agreed to let him. (And, no, he didn't use the same drum group.)

And, then he danced, and he was a perfectly controlled blur of feathers and feet, and he hit every beat, like a perfect poem. And as he danced, the other dancers came forward and stood in the dim light around the outside of the sacred circle in support of him. And, as he danced the crowd streamed out to the arena floor to throw money at his feet in appreciation for his dancing and to honor his decision.

Oh, but wait...there's more. After the dance and after the yells, whistles and applause died down, the money was gathered by a few volunteers for the fifth dancer. But he refused to take it. Instead, he wanted the drum group who had originally messed up his first dance to have it, to show he had no hard feelings towards them. He asked that they not be discouraged or feel bad in any way, and to keep drumming and keep performing. There were about 8 members in the drum group and when they came forward to shake the fifth dancer's hand and hug him, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. He may not have won the competition, but he won the hearts of everybody there that day.

Today was a good day.

Part 2 - Party on the Highway

(This is part 2 of my attempt to get from Apple Valley, CA to Petaluma, CA. I only had a couple days to get there, see a few sights and get settled in before my next nursing assignment at the new hospital started.)

It's Friday morning. According to mapquest, if I take the ol' boring Hwy. 5 up the middle of California, it will take us 7 hours to get to our new destination. I'd rather not go that route. We went down Hwy 5 when we went to Sacramento to pick up my California nursing license and it really is quite boring. If we can get everything done by this afternoon, we'll head for the world-famous Hwy 1 and drive along the coast. If we have to leave tomorrow, it will have to be the quick, boring route on Hwy. 5.

My plan is to take two days to get to Petaluma, and take our time, see some sights along the way and still get to Petaluma in time to settle in before my first shift at the new hospital. I tell Matt all of this hinges on whether or not we get the car loaded and the apartment cleaned by 3 pm today. If we get a later start than that, everything will fall apart.

Matt is ready to go. He's been without a TV or internet access since yesterday and doesn't want to go through another night of that, thank you very much! He's a whirlwind of energy, bringing things out to the Jeep for me to pack, climbing on top of the Jeep to fasten our carry-all that fits on top of it and helping me pack it, vacuuming the empty rooms, cleaning the bathrooms..at last, I've found a way to motivate him! Our deadline is looming though, and there is still a LOT of our stuff laying by the Jeep waiting for me to find a place for it. And, Matt is still bringing stuff out to me and with each load he brings, he shakes his head, and says, "We're screwed." I decide to help out the stituation by taking pictures of it. I'm not sure how that helps, but it gives me something to do while I'm trying to figure out what to do.

But, somehow, it all gets in there. Okay, there's a chance our dog could be crushed by the computer if I have to stop suddenly, and Matt will have to ride with his knees under his chin, but it's all in. And, it's 3:15! I turn my keys into the office and we're out of there! Well, first I consult my map. I didn't print out mapquest directions for the first part of the trip because mapquest keeps trying to make me take Hwy 5, and I don't want to go that way. Besides, according to the good ol' folding out map, the first leg of the trip is pretty easy. Any idiot could follow it. (cue ominious music)

I can't say I'm sad about leaving our high desert home. It's pretty, in a stark, arid kind of way, but I'm ready for green grass and tall trees. And the smog is so bad today, you can't even see the mountain tops that ring around the valley. Yep, it's time to go.

4 pm. Two miles before my first exit, traffic has come to a standstill. Four lanes of traffic have come to a total stop. I take my foot off the brake and put it in park. We're not going anywhere. I turn the engine off.

4:15 People are getting out of their cars, standing in their truck beds, walking between the cars, trying to see what the holdup is. The news comes back to us there's been a horrible wreck. We're going to be here awhile. A guy in the van next to us opens the back of his vehicle and pulls a beer out of his cooler. Great...I make a mental note to be sure and get in front of that guy so I won't get stuck behind another wreck further down the road...Another person takes the opportunity to walk their dog. We decide to do the same with our Scottie. We see a helicopter fly over us and back out as they mediflight someone out of there. Several tow trucks rumble by on the shoulder of the road. But we're still not moving.

4:30 It's a full-out party on the highway. Someone is blaring some kind of hard metal-rap music with a real heavy bass sound and people are "bouncing" in the back of pickups. Now, this is the way to have a traffic jam! Matt and I are thinking about bartering some of our candy (hey, we can't throw out ALL the food) for something to drink, but all I see is the guy with the beer. Matt's not old enough to drink liquor and it wouldn't be right to drink in front of him, so I decide against it.

4:45 A young man runs through the line of cars telling us we're going to start moving, they got two lanes cleared. Yay! And so the inching forward begins as we try to cram four lanes of traffic into two, but at least we're going forward. Our time is all thrown off, but I'm not too worried. We still have three hours of driving we can do today and then we'll have all day tomorrow to get to Petaluma.

5:10 It's taken us over an hour to go two miles to our first exit, but we make it. Traffic is finally picking up. Now I just have to take the exit that will keep us north of LA, Hwy 101, and that will take us around LA to the coast. If I can just make it to the coast tonight, we'll be okay. I just won't be able to make as many stops as I wanted to tomorrow, but the drive will still be fun along the coast.

6:30 I'm now in south LA about 100 miles from San Diego. Something's not right.....

6:40 I pull off an exit and into a mall parking lot to consult the map that any idiot could follow. Too bad there's not an idiot here...Somehow I've missed the Hwy 101 exit, but I never saw it, I scream calmly to Matt. Instead of the California map, I go to the inset of Los Angelos and find the problem. The exit I wanted was Hwy 210, which then turns into Hwy 101, but it doesn't show that on the general map of California. Now, I can either back track on Hwy 15 which is backed up with people trying to leave LA, or make a big loop through the city and catch 101 further out. I decide to do that. Oh, did I mention it's rush hour traffic on Friday night in LA? Oh, and I also discover the route I decided on takes Matt and I through some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in LA. We're seeing some sights, all right, just not the one's I'd hoped to see.

7:30 We see the sign for North Hollywood. Yay! We're in the north section of LA. At least, I think that's what that means...Okay, we're not on the coast and we're still not out of LA, and we left the house at 3:15, but I think we're finally making some progress, depending on how you define progress.

8:00 Now, according to the map, I need to get off off Hwy 101 and hit Hwy 1 soon. I miss the exit. I should have traded the candy for beer when I had the chance...

9:00 It's dark. I'm not sure if we're near the coast or not and I don't care, but we did find Hwy 1, and it only took me six hours! I don't mean to brag, but I think I may have set a new family record for getting lost while driving. (Try to beat that, Sarah!)

The next day, we did drive along the famous Hwy 1 coastal road and were alternately awed and terrified by it. These are a few shots of our trips along this highway. And, yes, we did make it to Petaluma, find our apartment, and I made it to my job on time. We really loved our time in northern California.

In Your Face, Ethiopia (Or, how I got from Apple Valley, California to Petaluma, CA)

It may be a couple days, or more, before I get to my next destination in Oklahoma, so I thought I would post something else I wrote. During my years as a travel nurse, my son and I had quite a few adventures. I wish I had done more writing about them, but I just didn't take the time. One of our more memorable trips was when we moved from Apple Valley, California to Petaluma, California and I did write about that.

Apple Valley is approximately 70 miles east of LA in the San Bernadino Mountains. It's about 500 plus miles from Apple Valley in southern CA to Petaluma in northern CA. My goal was to take a leisurely two-day drive along the famous Hwy 1 coast, stopping along the way to see the sights. Sounds good, right? Right....All I had to do was head west, get on the highway that looped around LA, and then get on Hwy 1. Piece of cake...

In Your Face, Ethiopia (Or, how I got from Apple Valley, California to Petaluma, CA)

One of the hardest things about moving from assignment to assignment is the packing. After almost two years of travel nursing, I still haven't found a smooth, easy way to do it. The "good intention stage" starts about 8 days before it's time to move. First, I vow this time it's going to be easier, smarter, and less stressful. I start making a to-do list, find boxes, stock up on tape, black magic markers, and scissors. At last count, I had four pairs of scissors -- it's easier to buy another pair then try to find the ones I moved with last time but that's another story...

Following my "good intention" stage comes the "denial stage". I start telling myself there's plenty of time to pack and not to stress out over it. I quit buying groceries during this stage, in hopes that we'll eat up the stuff in the fridge and cabinets and I won't have to waste a lot of it. I start to get this little uneasy feeling that I should be doing more, but I soothe it by making arrangements for my phone to be turned off and my satellite service to be transferred to my new address.

I'm down to five days before the big move and I still have two more shifts at work. Which means I really only have three days, if I don't sleep. Plenty of time. Obviously, I'm still in my denial stage. That uneasy feeling is growing, but again, I quiet it by getting on the internet and going to mapquest. I print out directions to my next assignment, how to get from my new address to the hospital, and any sights we might want to see along the way. See, I'm being productive... It's also when I realize I not only have to pack, but I still need to think about cleaning the apartment, too, which is about when the next stage hits me.

Panic. I don't have enough time, I don't have enough boxes, I don't have enough room in my Jeep, and I still have at least one more shift at work.

Oh, and Matt, my son, woke up this morning and his bottom lip is swollen. Should I be worried? It's swelling from the inside. His gums aren't swollen, so it's not a gum infection....no fever, no nausea, no difficulty breathing or swallowing...just spontaneous swelling. Yeah, that's normal. We'll just watch it for a day or two.

But now he's showing me the inside of his lip every 15 minutes...what if it gets worse while I'm at work tonight? He thinks he sees a "puncture wound". So, either an insect crawled in his mouth and bit him, or he's bit himself because of the swelling. I keep telling him he's fine, he has no fever, he has no other symptoms whatsoever, but for the first time in almost two years, I call in to work and tell them I can't make it. I can't leave Matt and risk it getting worse while I'm at work and he's home alone. Meanwhile, I'm telling Matt he's fine and there's nothing to worry about, but just the fact I called in has alerted him to the possibility it could be serious. He's showing me his lip every 5 minutes now.

I pack 14 boxes, yes FOURTEEN, and take them to the post office to mail to my new address. Matt's school books, plastic dishes, office supplies, the junk drawer in the kitchen, anything I can possibly think of to mail is mailed. I will still have more than I can fit in my Jeep, but this will help. As I drive away from the post office, I wonder if it would have been cheaper to just buy a bunch of new stuff rather than mail it. I hate it when I wonder stuff like that.

My refrigerator is still full. We're leaving tomorrow. Even if I had a cooler, there's no room for one in the Jeep. I have no idea where a soup kitchen is or have the time to go to one. It's going to have to be thrown away. I can't make myself do it, though, it's just too much food, and it makes me ill to think about it. I put a trash can by the fridge and ask Matt to do it. I go into the bedroom to work on packing and cleaning in there. I hear a "thud" as the first item hits the trash can. Then another "thud". Then I hear Matt saying, "In your face, Ethiopia!" (thud) "In your face, starving Africa!" (thud)

I shut my bedroom door. 16 hours to go.

...to be continued....