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I had a discussion today regarding native beliefs, stories and tradition as well as native healing practices. It was over chinese food in Albuquerque. I had lunch with an associate from Rocky Boy and also with someone living in Santa Fe. One of the things that came up was how I felt regarding the use of native healing methods on people regardless of their heritage.

It is my belief that native healing practices, beliefs and use is something that has to be decided individually on a case by case basis. I explained I am not a medicineman, nor do I portray myself to be one. There are many Navajo People, about 300,000 of us all together.

I listened as I was told that the old practices are not valid, that my
people who practice such things charge the highest rates of any reservation, that what I believe is no longer applicable in todays society of the internet, phone calls on a call, and airplane rides. That there are organizations that can provide these services to anyone who needs it. I was asked how I felt about it.

As I sit here, I am thinking about my father's eyes, and how they look, and then my grandfather. They told me someday that what we have would be taken from us, that what we believe would be used for profit or to make money. I can see these things they said are true. I remember a time when my best friend and I used to say to each other that if we were not successful we would buy a revival tent and tell people that they were going to hell and then get paid offerings for it. I was being facetious and it was meant to be a joke between us, but in reality we were talking about ourselves, because what we are is no longer ours.

I listened to what was being said to me, about my own people and where I live. I thought how can this person know me, my father, my grandfather and Natani, my great grandfather. As I look at my great grandfather, he spoke about family of staying with your woman about providing shelter, warmth, water and food to children.
In writing I have tried to bring out the human spirit, that we survive. That in the midst of stereotypical views, some think I am an old man sitting in a hogan eating fry bread and herding sheep. That is far from the truth. As I listened to this person from Santa Fe, I thought I am not too far from the canyons and valleys of Albuquerque, downtown in the midst of this mecca, there are those who sleep anywhere where it is warm. A few minutes ago I spoke with a man from my own tribe, a young mad who was buying a quart of beer. I said I think you are too young to have "red eyes". He looked at me and said what is it to you. I told him if you were my son, I would speak to you in this
way, because your father is not here, I would tell you this. He looked and me and walked out. I suppose he will go back after I am gone and buy the liquor he wanted.

Last nite I met a woman, she was from Lukachukai who broke down on the road, with six children. The car was old and some of the kids were without coats. You might even say some had holes in their clothes. I watched them a while wondering if I should offer to help. They could not get their car started and it was 15 degrees. I 
helped and after a long while, I thought as I tried to get her wheels going that maybe I should have not helped. But no one came to her aid, people parked around her and then left. I asked her where she lived. she told me and it was 90 miles away. I said I will take you home.

I am not noble, not in the least. One time my wife broke down there with my kids and someone from that community took them in and helped them. I took them back, but the thing about it was her children were excited to ride in the jeep I was driving. The told me stories about Crows, and the spirit of them that we consider bad that they proceeded to tell my why. The also spoke about "worshippers" of the dark side, which is the opposite of everything good.
It exists. They spoke as children and asked me if I was afraid of them and their spirits. I thought as an adult, but then I thought again and said yes. Their eyes were filled with wonder as they told me their experience with one crow, how it had brought bad luck to them. Their mother said if that was true then we would be still on the highway, then the son said it was because of the crow we broke down. I laughed and they did too. I did not get back until midnight and then got up at 5 and left for Albuquerque. I can say I saw in that little boy the continuation of our "old fashioned ways" This is what I
thought about as I sat in the fancy mall where I was sitting. It is not about the extravaganzas we have but about the daily struggle of living. I met a number of people on this trip and they taught me a few things.

I prefer to be old fashioned, and find native healers that I know in the
way of my father and his father. I am a simple man and go about a life like anyone else. I write now because I love it and I love where I come from, and the people I know and those that I will still meet. I am very concerned about the use of the internet for the practice of native healing, as well as over the phone. I am not a judge or wish to condemn anyone, but I can see the words of my father and the look in his eyes as he spoke to me about it. I can not stop them they will go about what they do, but I do know that I say a ray of hope in the eyes of five year old child and for that I am thankful. So it
goes here in Albuquerque.

The post I wrote was about my meeting with D P
of native healers, what ever he calls it. We met at
the  Winrock mall during lunch. I can't say much about
him,  except he has red hair and brought a little girl
with him. He wore a white shirt, levis and large
turquoise bracelets and rings on his hands. His
daughter was 7 years old. She was uncomfortable being
there and was bored out of her mind and started to cry
when we were talking. He related a story about how the
night before he helped someone over the phone who was
sick in the hospital somewhere in the Northwest or
Californian and how he told the woman to stand by her
husband's bed and poor a cup of water out and he would
do the same while he was on the phone. He related that
the person lived, and he did not know whether it was
because of his prayer or not, but the person survived.

He spoke in general terms about Sha... and the work
they do on a non profit status. I was having lunch
with a young lady from Rocky Boy, that is a friend. We
were working on records and filing of them. By chance
she sat in and I did not tell her about the meeting.
She knew some of the same people he did, and she later
told me that they were Indians but were considered "on
the fringe".

His eyes were not sincere and they did not convey
himself and he was uncomfortable about our meeting. He
asked me how I felt about his site. I explained I did
not care for it and it was his affair. He told me they
got a lot of negative publicity over it, some 500
messages, some supporting and most negative. He said
others had called harassing Ms. El.. and he had the
numbers and had been through this before some months
ago. He had contacted his lawyer, who told him that it
was "free publicity", that there would be difficulty
identifying me as the writer specifically, and that in
a round about way if they wanted to they could get the
reference "removed".

He said he wondered who "Johnny Rustywire" was. That
he had received an e-mail from the Northwest from
someone claiming to know Sherman Alexie was rustywire.
I told him, my name is on my webpage.  I am Norman
Cambridge. He talked about Duane "Chili" Yazzie from
Shiprock and how Sha..., the nonprofit group had
built a garage for someone up there. Also that
medicinemen in Shiprock number 200 and did not reveal
themselves for fear of the IRS, and also "others". I
listened as he spoke.

He asked me how I felt about non Indians having sings
done for them, I related that it is a personal choice,
that it is to be on a case by case basis. He related
that the story about medicinemen came up when one of
his associates typed in medicinemen, and my link was
before his. He related they had spent some effort and
expense in developing the site. I told him, I just
listed the words in my 'metafile keyword index", it
cost me nothing.

He told me I have a large following and that maybe I
should charge a dime each for each time someone wants
to read the stories there. I told him I did not
charge,  that I don't sell anything. He said people
think what you write is the 'gospel', that what I
write is how things really are, and that some things
have changed. That technology requires use of its
services. I told him I wrote because it is an escape
from my work. That I have been careful to not talk
about the actual ceremonial practices, but that it is
in general terms, mainly to not offend my own people.

I told him I did not expect his e-mail, that it was
offensive in nature. He related they had made a
mistake, but did not say it straight out but in a
round about way. He said ms. Els.. got the wrong
message and that before it could be corrected, the
whole thing got blown up. I related that I write for
myself, that at times some have written me and asked
me for direction or help that I could not give. I told
him about one young lady who killed herself on a
poetry page and that I could do nothing for her. I
said I write for myself, that a website came as a
result of requests for stories I had written, which I
did not save, I still don't have all of what i wrote.
They were not written with the intent of keeping them,
but since may set up my page, Navajo Spaceships and
they hare there now for anyone to read.

He told me that many people think I am somesort of
mystery person, that I am old man sitting in a hogan.
I told him you can see me for yourself, I am not old,
not traditional looking, just ordinary. I told him,
that I am a traditionalist, that at the present time I
follow the navajo way, but that is not set in stone.
He said people take what you write as how life is, he
said it isn't that way anymore. I said, it is about
the human spirit I write about. his daughter started
to cry and he left. He did not shake hands with me
when he left, he just said good bye and walked away.
He stays in Santa Fe. I will tell you he looked at me
with hungry eyes as I related to home a story about
the two brothers n the Navajo Way, one was told not to
go somewhere but he did anyway, he didn't listen to
his own detriment, his eyes wanted to see it and make
it his. I cut it short when I realized he was
listening for the thought behind but how he could
relate it to someone else, for his own purposes. His
eyes were like a hungry wolf. Anyway that is what
happened between D P and myself. Before he
left, he asked me, what is your name again. I told
him, Norman Cambridge and then he was gone with his
daughter crying....

{note:  names have been abbreviated here...Ish}