O!

I have been meaning to keep this updated better, but without unfettered internet access it is hard to find myself in a place where it is ok to blather (i.e. work is not an acceptable environment). This past week has been a big one, I took a trip down to Omaha- driving all by myself- and staying with Rebekah, a girl I met at our service-learning training last week. Omaha has plenty of sprawl and mall, but there was also a great downtown area called the Old Market where I went to the Farmer's Market, ate Persian food for lunch and bought a skirt that is very Ithaca hippy reminiscent. We also went to the Joslyn art museum which has two giant Chihuly glass sculptures that are pretty overwhelmingly impressive. The rest of the collection was small, but interesting. They had artists that I'd heard of and seen in other, bigger, more cosmopolitan museums, but the works they displayed were all really interesting and a bit different (did you know that Mondrian painted landscapes, I didn't). Another attraction of Omaha was that I was hanging out with someone my age, who I would actively be friends with even if I weren't in the Midwest. We spent a lot of time sitting around and listening to the band Devotchka (who we then saw in concert) while I read through Rebekah's graphic novel collection. We also stopped at the Hindu temple, located conveniently behind Target. I have never been to a Hindu temple in the US and it was really weird to me that it was air conditioned AND carpeted, but it always feels nice to smell the familiar smell and see Indian families en masse. I am looking forward to visiting the local temple in Elk Point this weekend for some good Indian food and company. Btw, Omaha for some reason thinks that O! is a great catchphrase/marketing thing for their town. I think of Oprah, but whatever.

On the way back to Vermillion I tried to take the scenic route, with the intention of driving through the Winnebago reservation in Nebraska. I have been really interested in learning more about the Native American community, but I have those imperialist guilt pangs about observation vs. learning, etc. Somehow I missed the turn and when I stopped for cheap gas the BIA policeman told me that I should just get on the main road. It was really bizarre to stop at this gas station because I didn't realize that the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) had a police force that was on the reservation, which brought home the fact that I am completely not used to being in "Indian Country."

Last week at the poetry slam (won by a woman whose poem was titled "Mammogram Cryptogram" a witty, rhyming take on why the man who created mammograms should be kicked in the balls) the second place winner read poems about life growing up on the reservation. Besides the fact that it was a little disconcerting to have a mammogram poem followed by this young guy talking about drinking sugar water as a child cause everyone was too drunk and poor to get milk, I continue to be floored by the fact that I really know nothing about this very important part of America. I have been reading Leonard Peltier's Prison Writings which has been depressing, but a good overview of some history that I should really know. Especially since Pine Ridge is about four hours away.

Anyway, this is my lunch hour and I have to get back to work. I am in the process of moving out of my friends house and into my own, so eventually I will have wireless internet at home and we will all benefit.