Modern concern plagues ancient practice

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THE URBANE INDIAN

Nothing makes an archeologist salivate more than finding a pre-contact First Nation pipe in a 600-year-old garbage dump. That's because the pipe ceremony is the most sacred and cherished of all the Native spiritual practices.

I've often heard Elder William Commanda, a pipe carrier from the Algonquin community of Kitigaan Zibi in Quebec, say that he does not himself carry the pipe. The pipe carries him. It is, after all, considered in direct contact with the Creator.

But in this modern day, the passing around of the revered communal pipe is now considered by some to be a health hazard. As one deeply spiritual Native man told me recently: "I'm afraid of sharing the pipe. There are a lot more diseases out there that our Elders didn't know about."

Indeed, a call to Trish Warner, a registered nurse practitioner, revealed that diseases such as mononucleosis, hepatitis, strep, meningitis, the common cold virus and, possibly, influenza lurk in the average person's saliva.

What are we to do? Pipe ceremonies are used all the time as a method of opening or closing spiritual gatherings all across North America in many Aboriginal cultures.

I asked Doug Williams, an Elder from the Curve Lake First Nations in central Ontario and a member of the Native Studies faculty at Trent University, how he handles the problem. Williams tells me it is a sign of respect and honor to be invited to participate in a pipe ceremony. It means you are all of the same mind and spirit.

"The pipe is basically a helper. The helper that will take the smoke and transport your prayers to the Creator." He admits there have been discussions about some of the health issues. "I now am almost at a point of refusing to take the pipe at a big event or where there are many people. There are a lot of people refusing to take it because they don't want to have their lips on it."

Nevertheless, he said, it's important to protect the sacred practice. Besides limiting the number of people that get invited to the pipe ceremony, he offers the option to participants that when the pipe comes around, a show of proper respect is just to touch the pipe with their hand and pass it on.

Not too long ago I was asked to participate in a ceremony led by Commanda. As I stood there, one of about eight people, I watched the pipe passed from person to person, each drawing the tobacco into their lungs, till it came to me. I took it but I couldn't help notice the mouth was wet with saliva. I inhaled anyway.

I should point out here that I have great respect for traditional teachings. So admittedly there is a certain amount of reluctance in writing about these matters. But I have to admit, smoking the pipe is getting more difficult.

Aboriginal people certainly have had a deep experience with beneficial objects having a more sinister viral nature. In the 19th century, it was common practice for governments to magnanimously give blankets purposefully infected with small pox and measles as gifts, or as payment for treaty obligations to First Nations. It was one of the first and most effective cases of viral and bacterial warfare.

Small pox may be gone in today's society, but a host of new diseases from around the world have come calling at the Aboriginal door.

I've been discussing my pipe observations over the past few years with other First Nations people. Several times it's been suggested I drop the topic. One woman told me that it was her belief that the pipe protected itself. That it was so strong, it protect everybody that believes in it.

Some time later, a prominent Native activist told me that I shouldn't bother writing about such a topic.

"There should never be any criticism of the pipe. It's too important to our people."

Williams disagrees. "I think these people are concerned about the fact the pipe is a sacred thing. So one has to be careful. But nothing is above reproach. I'm almost tempted to go to a paper cup company to come up with something toput over it."

I contacted Anishnawbe Health, an Aboriginal health services organization located on Queen St. East in Toronto. I wanted to talk with their Elder-In-Residence and with the resident doctor to get their perspectives. I was asked to submit a formal request by e-mail. I did so. I followed up with several calls over a two-month period. I never heard back from them.

I told you it was a controversial subject.