Jump dance and ukulele

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

This is that busy season when festivals abound. And I love it. 

This morning Zing and I went to the farmers market — bustling as ever. We bought apples for a Thanksgiving pie. Then I went to a basketweaving demonstration at the Indian Museum, a cave-like space full of visitors. Signs said don’t take photographs, but I was tempted! Instead, I sketched and copied facts from the information on the wall. I was peering and writing in my small notebook when a woman started talking to me, describing the Jump Dance ritual of the northern coastal Yurok tribe that so engrossed me. Men wear the feathers of sand crane hawks and woodpecker crests. They bend on one knee and then fling that leg out, dancing troubles away from the people. Behind them they have erected a wooden wall; the spirit ancestors reside behind it, separated from the living dancers, but listening. 

Then my stepson Keith invited me to an ukulele fest at the Buddhist Church (not temple — not sure of the difference), which is close to my condo. There was a community room full of people, members of groups that took turns on stage. It was not a public performance — simply a large get-together, with tables of food and an urn that said “Japanese tea.” It was people entertaining each other. One group wore pineapples on their heads. Keith’s group was more restrained!

Love,

k