A funny thing happened on the way to the future…
Recently, the local news heralded the reopening of Chez Willie in Val-d’Or, which is now located a little ways from downtown. This is good: the poor homeless have a daytime sanctuary from the harsh realities on the streets of an urban land, far from the homes of the northern Cree, far from anything they can call home. Still, images of smiling people come from this depth of economic disparity and they have touched many peoples of all walks of life. Yes, there is a light to look forward to at the end of the tunnel called homelessness.
For many people who don’t understand this situation and how this can be in modern-day treaty days. With a new nation formed from the damming of rivers and vast hydroelectric projects, this ironically made the very independent people of Eeyou Istchee homeless in their own lands. Today, we live a modern-day lifestyle far from any semblance of what we used to call our garden, the lands we harvested for a life without the chains of monetary systems.
The way we lived was far from impoverished, rich as it was with traditions and beliefs based on the natural order of life and the lands we occupied. When that was taken from us, we became homeless too, as our people struggled to find the right places to live, establish communities and adopt a modern-day lifestyle. One great tradition we maintained was our sense of humour, as laughter was always used as a way to deal with our transitions from sustenance lifestyles to a dependent lifestyle of free money and unearned pay cheques.
In a way, the urban homeless who come from our communities are still struggling with dealing with this intergenerational change, from the freedom of being your own person to one dependent on the help of others. I see these people who wander the streets of Val-d’Or and Montreal and it reminds me that the choices we made in the past have affected us in many ways today. But, while talking to some, I always try to make someone laugh because I know that is a tradition they still retain, a trait that tends to take the edge off a long day of staying alive on the streets with no names.
At the other end of the spectrum, where the well-to-do or even middle class (for a lack of a better expression) survive just like the rest of ordinary Canadians – paying the rent, buying groceries, taking care of never-ending bills and living from one paycheque to the next – you will still see humour as the most affordable medicine.
Our past and traditions are now struggling to find a home in our modern lifestyles. I remember when our transition to the technological reality of cellphones, Internet, online shopping and Facebook was still in the future. We could still walk a mile in snowshoes and ride a two-stroke skidoo. Then we thought up ways to record the Elders before they died off. People laughed at our suggestion, refusing to believe that our way of life would ever be lost to our children and their children. It’s no longer a funny notion, as we spend so much time and money trying to recover our lost memories of legends and the meanings behind those teachings.
Now, even though our culture is at risk, we are using the same technology to assist the survival of our language and culture through audio-visual means. Many tales are ribald and full of adult content, which are told with a wry smile from a wrinkled face. But soon, those days will pass and we will only be left with a final trait that will keep us alive as a nation – laughter and humour.
I know this column is supposed to be based on making fun of ourselves, but I just want to tell you that this is possibly the only tradition left if we don’t keep our identity alive by handing down values and passing around what little knowledge is left of our past and where we come from. It won’t be funny when our culture will be homeless, without a people to keep it alive.