The Finns of Sointula and
the ‘Namgis of ‘Yalis (Part 1)
Fishing spirit person from Karelia, National Museum of Finland; 'Pugwis with Kingfisher', Stan Hunt, Cantor Arts Center, Stanford University |
Introduction
In an earlier post I told about how a shaman found
my spirit guardian (haltija) in a
cave in Finland where she saw red markings on the walls. It was part of a soul
retrieval that she conducted for me near Algonquin Park in Ontario. At that time I knew little about the prehistory of Finland. Since then I have learned that only a few kilometres from my father’s family homestead in North Savo in Finland are habitation sites, as identified by archeologists, of people of the shamanic Neolithic Comb Ceramic culture. They lived there as many as six thousand years ago. One site that is twenty kilometres away has recently been confirmed as even older, from the Mesolithic Suomisjarvi culture, from 10,000 years ago.
This
means that the shore of the large Juojarvi lake system, where my father swam as
a boy, would have been witness in 4,000 B.C. to many long dugout boats of the ‘wilderness
people’ gliding past. The boats might
have been heading 80 kilometres south to a yearly visit to Ukonvouri, the
sacred ceremonial centre for the Comb Ceramic people.
The
centre consists of a cave with red ochre rock paintings from the Comb Ceramic
period, as well as rock altars and a spring on the cliff above it. I believe that this is the
cave that the shaman visited in her soul retrieval journey for me.
With
their boats anchored in the bay, the people who travelled there so long ago would
have observed the sacred performances of shamans, including communication with
the rock painting persons. Their singing
and drumming would have been amplified outward into the bayb y the fine acoustics of the cave One of their own shamans,
who had travelled from the north with them, would have been one of the
celebrants.
Through shamanic means, I had been reunited with these people—who I consider to be among my very early ancestors—and a previously lost aspect of my identity.
Through shamanic means, I had been reunited with these people—who I consider to be among my very early ancestors—and a previously lost aspect of my identity.
Photo: Center for Finno-Ugric Shamanism, Helsinki |
As
part of the process of actively incorporating this new ‘soul part’ into my life,
I began this blog, Spirit Boat, and took
advantage of practice and learning opportunities through the Center for
Finno-Ugric Shamanism in Helsinki.
I
also took a trip with my wife and younger daughter to Ukonvouri in 2011, that was the subject of an earlier post on Spirit Boat. Canoeing to the cave of Ukonvouri in Kolovesi National Park |
Return to Ukonvouri
An
experience that I had while on the 2011 trip to Ukonvouri was very challenging. I only briefly touched on it in my earlier
post, and I will explain more about it here because it seems significant and has
remained unresolved for me. It occurred
when my daughter Sarah and I slept overnight in the cave, at the foot of
the rock paintings from the Comb Ceramic period.At right, rock painting called the Shaman of Ukonvouri |
Late in the night I went on a shamanic soul journey, sitting
at the foot the rock painting person known as the ‘Shaman of Ukonvouri’. Afterward, I wrote of the my experience in my
journal:
The shaman took me
through a cleft in the cliff to the shore in front of the cave. A spirit boat was waiting there and we
paddled out into the middle of the bay.
At the request of the
shaman, we were joined by spirit beings who I recognised as being of the
Kwahkwah’kwah peoples, from images I have seen of masks and totem poles carved by
aboriginal traditional artists of the West Coast of British Columbia in Canada.
Together with the
shaman, the spirit persons forced me to jump from the boat into the water. I struggled for a time, and then submerged
and drowned. My body floated to a rocky
shore. The spirit persons found me there
and put me in the dugout with a bear robe over me. I came back to life, and as the journey ended
I was sitting up, wearing the robe.
Later, reflecting on what had happened, I saw the drowning
as a form of ‘shamanic dismemberment’. This is an ancient ritual common to
shamanic and even some Buddhist traditions in which a person is cut into pieces
by spirit persons—in my case drowned—with loss of ego, and then reconstituted with a
new identity.
I found this experience both powerful and puzzling. I interpreted it in the following way. That is, I recognised that incorporating the soul fragment
that was recovered from Ukonvouri had been significant at the time in transforming
my sense of self. However, now through
the dismemberment I felt I was being directed by the Shaman of Ukonvouri and
Kwahkwah’kwah helping spirits to continue the process of transformation, through
seeking new experiences in North America.
On
reflection, that seemed only natural, since while I have ancestral roots
in Finland that may extend back to the Neolithic Age, and perhaps even further,
I have roots in the United States as well, where my parents and grandparents immigrated
to from Finland, and in Canada, where I moved and now live with my family.
But what do my roots in North America mean for my practice in
the Finnish shamanic tradition? What role might the spiritual tradition of the Kwahkwah’kwah
First Nations play in it? I had no
answers, but I had confidence in the process and was willing to wait for answers
to emerge. I present Part 1 of the story as it
unfolded for me in this post of Spirit
Boat.
Sointula and ‘Yalis
The story begins when my wife Joyce and I took a holiday
trip to Vancouver Island in British Columbia with Ross and Catherine, my son
and daughter-in-law who live in Victoria.
Map: Canadian Geographic Travel Club |
My son suggested that, because of the ‘Finnish connection’
of our family, we pay a visit to a small Finnish community by the name of
Sointula—that can be translated as ‘Place of Harmony’. Sointula is located on Malcolm Island off the
northern coast of Vancouver Island.
I had a special additional reason for wanting to go. That is, when we were considering visiting
Sointula, I read that there are Kwahkwah’kwah rock carvings on the island. I saw that this might be the opportunity I
was looking for, to continue the journey that began at Ukonvouri.
We travelled the last leg by ferry from Port McNeil.
In advance, we had read that Sointula was originally a
utopian community, set up in 1901 by a group of idealistic, mainly socialist,
Finnish immigrants. Some of them had
directly arrived from Finland and others had been living for a time in Canada,
the U.S. or Australia. Their common goal was to live a communal life in a
natural setting, free from the exploitation they had experienced working in
mines and factories.
Their communal experiment failed after about four years, but
the community of Sointula went on to have a storied history of radical
politics, labour activism in the fishing industry, and establishment of
successful cooperative ventures. By the 1950’s, 90% of Sointula residents were still of Finnish heritage, although the
percentage has dropped since then.
Photo: Sointula Museum |
On arriving in Sointula, I found much that was familiar to
me from memories of my upbringing. My mother
and father had been a generation younger than the original settlers of
Sointula, but they had also been participants
in the radical and idealistic culture of Finns who immigrated
to the U.S. Pacific Northwest and British Columbia, from the late 1800’s to the
early 1920s.
This culture existed in the ‘Finn towns’ all along the
Pacific Coast of the U.S and Canada, including the port town of Aberdeen,
Washington, where I was born. In fact, a
number of Sointula residents had come from these coastal communities of
Washington and Oregon. Like others from the Finnish community in Aberdeen, my father was active in unions in the logging industry and had worked in the salmon cannery industry. My parents—both lifelong socialists and environmentalists—had been early founding members of two cooperatives, including the local branch of a national farmers cooperative and a cooperative plywood mill.
There was one difference between the experience of my family
and that of the residents of Sointula that was critical for me personally, in
view of the events at Ukonvouri. This is
the fact that the residents of Sointula have lived for 111 years in close
proximity to—in fact, literally upon the traditional lands and waters of—two
Kwahkwah’kwah First Nations, the ‘Namgis and the Kwakiutl, both of whom have
earth-based shamanic traditions that remain vital to this day.
This fact was highlighted for us when we were guided through
the Sointula Museum by Gloria Williams (pictured below), a long-time resident who had helped set
up the museum and is extremely knowledgeable about the story of the community.
Gloria’s husband Alfred, was a member of a prominent
original Sointula family who had changed their name from a Finnish one, Honkala,
to Williams. She showed us the tracing
of an aboriginal rock carving (petroglyph), on the shore of Malcolm Island, that
her husband had made directly from the rocks in the 1970's, under the guidance of an archeologist. This rock carving on
the southeast tip of the island is still a sacred site of the ‘Namgis people.
‘Namgis First Nation
Although the cultures of the ‘Namgis and the Kwakiutl are
very similar, the main characteristic that unites them and the other Kwahkwah’kwah
peoples
(pronounced "kwa kwa ka wak”) is that they originally spoke the
Kwak’wala language. (The famous anthropologist Franz Boas incorrectly applied
the name Kwakiutl to all Kwahkwah’kwah peoples, and the confusion continues to
this day.) I focus here on the ‘Namgis First Nation, headquartered at ‘Yalis (next to Alert Bay) on nearby Cormorant Island. ‘Yalis is about eight kilometres by ferry from Sointula. Because of the close proximity of the two communities, their histories are particularly closely intertwined.
Left: Unidentified Kwahkwah'kwah family, 'Yalis, Archives of B.C. Right: 'Yalis, www.emilycarr.org/ |
Above are photos are from ‘Yalis in about 1901, the year that the Finnish settlers arrived
on Malcolm Island.
Encountering a Sacred
Site
I saw in my visit to Malcolm Island an opportunity to
continue what I had begun at Ukonvouri.
That is, while exploring the linked histories of the Finns of Sointula
and the ‘Namgis of ‘Yalis—both with heritages of earth-based spiritualties and both based in Canada—I would look for implications for my own practice in the Finnish shamanic tradition. As the first step, I had an extraordinary encounter with the ancient world view of the ‘Namgis. It happened near where we stayed in the southwest of Malcolm Island, near lands’ end, facing the mainland.
The hosts of the bed and breakfast said they believed that there were Kwahkwah’kwah rock carvings close by. However, there were no published directions and no one in Sointula could help direct us. Finally, our hosts called a neighbour who said he knew of a site located on the beach, just around the bend on Donegal Head, in the area between low and high tide. Early the next morning I went searching for them.
After searching along the beach on Donegal Head, I was excited to find two large sandstone rocks with rock carvings (petroglyphs) on them. One was a large upright, tilted rock and the other a rectangular flat rock about two metres behind it.
I requested permission from the spirit persons guarding the site to view and photograph the rock carvings. I let it be known that I came as a Finnish Canadian person only with the intention of learning from the carvings. When I felt I had received permission, I proceeded, with deep gratitude.
There were three rock surfaces with carvings at the site. The large tilted rock had carvings on both sides.
The rectangular rock two metres behind it also had a carving. Lying flat on the gravel of the beach, this rock had other large rocks around it that seemed to be protecting it.
I looked down at the rock lying flat and was amazed to see—somewhat difficult to make out because of faintness of the lines in the sandstone—the large face of a ‘stone person’ gazing back.
Next to the face was a deeply carved grooved line that ran across the full length of the stone.
Later I found an image very similar in appearance to the stone person. It was in a photo from a recent ‘Namgis First Nation ceremony—that may have been a Potlatch—taking place in the ‘Namgis Big House on Cormorant Island. Below, I have outlined the stone person image and placed it next to it to the photo for comparison.
Distinctive because of his prominent teeth, the stone person appeared to be Pugwis, a major spirit being in the Kwahkwah’kwah cultural tradition. An undersea serpent who can also assume human form, Pugwis is messenger or intermediary of the lord of the sea, .
Living in the intertidal zone, the stone person Pugwis is above water during low tide. He looks at the world above the waves, perhaps occasionally engaging with human persons. As suggested in the photo above, at high tide he is below the water, looking upward at his marine realm and able to interact with its inhabitants.
This spine-like groove of the Pugwis rock carving is very similar to the spine of another serpent being—Sisiutl—as pictured on the ‘Namgis sign at ‘Yalis (top right above), and in the detail from a Kwakiutl painting (bottom right above).
As the ‘Namgis sign shows, Sistal is a giant three-headed sea serpent. It is said that his look can turn an opponent into stone.
The backbone or spine of the rock lying flat continues onto the carved back of the tilted rock in front of it, running from the bottom right to the top left. Other carved lines run off of it in a distinct pattern.
The carving seems to include a representation of Broughton Strait (the gray area on left side of the sandstone rock, where the hard brown surface layer has been removed), and of the Gwa’ni (also called the Nimpkish River), and its watershed.
The spine continues on the other side of the rock, from
upper right to lower left, thereby uniting the carvings on the three rock
surfaces, forming a single elongated serpent being.
Three pairs of eyes are carved on this third rock surface.
The pair of eyes on the top left above appears to include a mouth, while the pair on the top right appears to include a nose. As these two pairs of eyes are high up on the rock where they likely remain dry during normal high tides, giving Pugwis the stone person a continuous view of the realm above the water as well as ability to interact through smell and speech.
This
whole rock face—with eyes, mouth and nose—seems to constitute a second head for the
serpent being Pugwis. When all the rock
carvings at this site are taken into consideration, Pugwis the serpent stone
person is equipped to carry on his life both above and below the sea, just as
he is portrayed in the Kwahkwah’kwah oral tradition.
The ‘above water’ eyes of Pugwis look out onto Queen Charlotte strait. When the ‘Namgis were coming to shore to visit the site for ceremonial purposes, they would have been able to easily spot the prominent rock that was one of the heads of Pugwis— the stone person—and in turn he, Pugwis, would have easily seen them—the human persons—as they approached in their boats.
Right: 'Pugwis with Kingfisher, Stan Hunt, Cantor Arts Center, Stanford University |
Pugwis the stone person—with the sentient capacities of smelling, seeing and talking—would have been capable entering of into social relations with the ‘Namgis in his role as intermediary between human persons and the lord of the sea.
Kwahkwah'kwah shaman of the Hamatsa secret society in a possession trance, Edward Curtis, 1914 |
Because he physically incorporates the Gwa’ni, this stone person Pugwis was an other-than-human person with whom the ‘Namgis—the people of the Gwa’ni—could communicate directly about many matters critical to their survival and well-being. Shamans might have done so in the traditional way: through performing a sacred dance, dressed in masks and other regalia associated with Pugwis, in order to enter a possession trance and ‘talk’ with him.
And they could have thanked and honoured him for the abundance of the marine environment. Altogether, the ‘Namgis would have been able to maintain a relationship of reciprocity with Pugwis—and thereby maintain harmony and balance between the human and non-human worlds—the sacred waters and marine beings of their primordial home.
The ‘Namgis also honoured Pugwis in Potlatch ceremonies, in which he was always represented when the undersea kingdom was portrayed.
The early potlatches would have taken place at Xwalkw, the ancient year-around dwelling place of the ‘Namgis.
Fire cracked rock and stone tools dating from 6,300 – 6,400 years before the present have been found on ‘Namgis territory. (www.namgis.bc.ca/)
The carvings at this site are worn and indistinct from many years of waves lashing against them, but from their relatively sound condition I think that they are more likely to be hundreds—rather than thousands—of years old. Also, the tide line that today places the carvings in the intertidal zone—that seems essential to its meaning as a sacred site—would have changed considerably over a period of as much as a thousand years.
John M. Horton, "Cheslakees Reception", Fidelis Art Prints |
The ‘Namgis encountered white men for one of the first times
in 1792, at Xwalkw, when Captain George Vancouver of the British Navy moored
his ships at the mouth of the Gwa’ni. Later
history was to show fewer than a hundred years after that, the traditional way
of life of the ‘Namgis was to change utterly.
A Powerful Learning
In the dualistic, Cartesian view, there are no sacred places
that are imbued with spirit—places of power—there is only inanimate land and
water. However, at this place between
the tides, I believe I ‘saw’ Pugwis the spirit person who had been assisted by
the ‘Namgis to take living form there hundreds of years ago through the sacred
art of rock carving. He lives on there,
and I could sense his energetic presence.
I approached this extraordinary site as a non-‘Namgis,
without the initiation and deep cultural knowledge that would make it possible
to ceremonially communicate with Pugwis the stone person. At the same time, in my brief visit, I
was deeply inspired by this sacred being
and felt that he was a helping spirit, as I believe he had been for me at
Ukonvouri a year before.The marine environment and coastal landscape of this site were very familiar to me, as I had spent time over a number of years at our family home near a small seaside town in the shadow of the coastal hills and mountains, a half hour out of Aberdeen, Washington. Visiting this place on Malcolm Island had opened a unique opportunity for me: with the help of the 'Namgis, to look upon a landscape that is very familiar to me with a relational—not a human-centred—gaze, like that of the stone person.
I believed that this followed from the message to me at Ukonvouri: to train this gaze on the linked histories the ‘Namgis of ‘Yalis and the Finns of Sointula, and through them on family influences that were formative for me.
‘Namgis Lands
In observing the incredibly faithful likeness of the Gwa’ni
and its watershed in the carving on the tilted rock, an extraordinary aerial ‘map’
perhaps many hundreds of years old, it was clear to me that the land of the
‘Namgis had originally included a large swath of territory. What had happened to their rivers, lakes and
lands?
The traditional territory of the 'Namgis First Nation (earlier called the Nimpkish Indian Band) had originally covered 600,000 acres, including the giant watershed of the Gwa’ni.
However, in 1886—a bare 94 years after Captain Vancouver first contacted the ‘Namgis at Xwalkw—the white colonial government of British Columbia moved to restrict the ‘Namgis to two small reserves that together made up of fewer than 600 acres. They said that the ‘Namgis lived off of marine species and therefore needed little land. (www.firstnations.eu/)
An eagle person we encountered on our second visit to the rock carving site |
To understand this colonialist encroachment on the land rights of the 'Namgis, we need to explore the backdrop of the dramatic large-scale events of the early 20th century in British Columbia. They can be summarised in terms of three linked assaults: on the lands and cultures of aboriginal peoples, on other-than-human persons of nature, and on the rights of workers in logging and fishing.
Exploring this history will also help set the context for looking at the establishment of Sointula by Finnish immigrants, beginning in 1901, and the influence on them and their utopian experiment, from the ancient relational, animist tradition of Finland.
This story will continue in the next post on Spirit Boat: 'The Finns of Sointula and the 'Namgis of 'Yalis (Part 2)'.
I so very much enjoyed this inspiring spirited,soul- journey share..Anita
ReplyDeleteI found your blog yesterday and have so enjoyed reading it. I too am Canadian, but now live in Australia. I am part of a medieval group and I chose Finnish shaman as my persona because I was drawn to it so strongly. In the course of my research I found your blog and felt peaceful and comfortable here. Thank you for sharing your journey, your experiences and insights, and for the links to others. I will be a faithful reader. :-)
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