THE URBANE INDIAN: It seems like just yesterday, or so I'm told

It was in China of all places that I found out something quite disturbing. Believe it or not, I found myself being in the unique position of disagreeing with the views of our beloved federal government. Shocking ... Yes I know. A Native person differing in opinion from that of the Canadian government ... I almost alerted the media. And, equally surprising, it had nothing to do with land claims, residential schools, public inquiries or money. It had to do with history in this country and publicity on the other side of the world.

I was in Chengdu, China with several other Native artists for a kind of Canada's Aboriginal people meets China's minorities type symposium. Red Sky was there showcasing a dance theatre piece written by Tomson Highway. Singer/guitarist George Leach and traditional dancer and drummer Lorne Ducette were also in attendance. I guess you could say we made Red China a little more red. While there, we were treated to a variety of cultural performances from many of China's 56 recognized cultural minorities. There were images and memories I will carry with me for the rest of my hopefully long life.
During the 10 days I was there, I was also fortunate enough to see and experience a lot of other fabulous and interesting things the country had to offer, including a sandstorm that blew in from the Mongolian desert. You can't get that in Toronto's China town. Ironically enough, my most startling discovery came instead from the press release issued by the Canadian Ambassador to China and our Embassy praising our appearance in Chengdu, and later in the cities of Yinchaun and Nanjing. It was all summed up in the document's first line. "Canadian First Nations have inhabited what is now Canada for centuries." I stopped reading there. Did he say centuries ... like a couple hundred years? Those centuries? Perhaps the Canadian ambassador was thinking of these centuries in terms of dog years.

Was the paint still wet on all our tipis when Columbus and Cabot first arrived? Had we had time to unpack our powwow outfits yet? Maybe our canoes were still under warranty.

Our traditional knowledge dictates that we've been here as long as the winds blew, rivers flowed, grass grows, all that Time Immemorial stuff. And there are some people who rightly or wrongly believe we crossed over into Canada from China and Siberia, across the Bering land bridge. I can understand that because there didn't appear to be any Tim Horton's in China. Gee, was that only a couple hundred years ago ... seems like yesterday. Granted, Native people and government people have always viewed the concept of time differently, but I think this is getting a little ridiculous.

Now admittedly I might be a little inaccurate in my judgement here because I don't work for the government, and as we know the government is never wrong. But we who find ourselves kicking stones around our local reserves have always believe, silly us, that it was people like the ambassador and his relatives that have enjoyed the benefits of Canada for those scant few centuries, not us.

Oh well, I blame that misconception on the notoriously bad education available in Native communities.
Luckily though, in gratitude for the fine treatment we received over there, I managed to warn the Chinese about the ambassador and his people.

They'll show up on your doorstep for a cup of tea, usually to prevent scurvy, and then end up staying for a "few" centuries. And then, before you know it, you're knee deep in Starbucks, Star Trek series and Toronto Star telemarketers. The whole scene reminded me of that famous George Orwell novel, 1984, where he wrote about a big centralized government with a yen to rewrite history, as they felt necessary. It reminded me of Stephen Harper's big goof-up a year or two ago when he thought the Assembly of First Nations represented India, and congratulated them on National India Day. I'm noticing a geographical theme here.

Of course the whole "inhabited what is now Canada for centuries" thing could just have been a misprint. An honest mistake. I considered the possibilities as I tasted a local delicacy called "10,000-year-old quail egg." I was pondering its unusual name when a member of the Canadian embassy leaned over and told me that actually they were only about 500 years old. A couple centuries at best.
Maybe that's why the white part of me still tells women I'm actually only 30 years old. Really.