Christmas in Hopiland

I've been fortunate to spend my Christmas in Arizona, although some might not see it that way.

After all, how can it ever seem like winter here? Well, it was surely 10 degrees or less on the Hopi Reservation the other night. My bones felt it as the wind blew. Also, some snow was on the ground despite the sunny day. It's what happens at 6000+ feet in elevation.

People of all generations gathered to enjoy bounty from so many others -- playing games, singing carols, sharing their food as well as the warmth of their homes. Most heat their homes with wood or coal when they have it, not electricity or gas.

One elderly matriarch described special preparations this time of year, such as the men making prayer feathers to bless all the households. Trouble is, this year the main ceremonial leader had been hospitalized at the last minute, disrupting plans. Others had to assume his position, and she worried that eventually they might lose the old ways if younger people did not learn correctly.

These rituals aren't on videos; they're orally transmitted.

I thought about how many had been taken from their homes as children, sent off to boarding schools and forbidden to speak their native language or practice their religion. Then, several years ago, some special relics were stolen from the Hopi kiva in which they were kept. This woman explained how this had demoralized them, and certain villages had stopped doing their ceremonies.

I was glad that in Shongopavi, the old ways still survive. Otherwise she might not be telling me about this.

There was also a small Christmas tree in the home, and the children knew about Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. One little boy wanted my antlers, which I'd donned for celebration. Of course I was happy to give them to him. He danced around the house on all fours, imitating Santa's favorite critters.

I also hoped he would someday be among those preparing prayer feathers for his tribe. Many voices sing of peace at Christmas, and some of the most heartful are Hopi. May they sing in their own way, always.