By Sepideh Afshar
Saturday, June 21st was National Indigenous Peoples Day. I had the pleasure and opportunity to be in Yellowknife, surrounded by celebrations of life, culture, and overall joy on this day. On a personal level, it remains a memory of a day of laughter, mild humiliation, and triumph! I was invited out by the family I live with to attend the celebration put on by the Yellowknives Dene First Nation. Given just a vague destination of “along Yellowknife River,” I set off with some friends to find the celebrations!
As we arrived, I understood why the directions were so vague. It would have been impossible to ignore the parked cars and vibrant energy (a mix of music, smells of delicious food, and kids running around despite rainy conditions, already unusual for Yellowknife).
My friends and I got right into the festivities. Starting pretty low intensity, we made fresh Bannock on the fire. What really stood out to me at this point was how excited everybody was to help us! Every person had a new set of tips and after amalgamating their advice, I am happy to report that my Bannock did taste delicious.
It was then that my coworker and I were convinced to join the annual canoe race. Much to my chagrin, I did not take my coworker seriously when he proclaimed that he had never canoed before. Chalking it up to an exaggeration, I signed us both up and waited for the race to begin. It was only in the water that it became clear that he had in fact, as he warned me, never been on a canoe before. Long story short, we were not only disqualified from the canoe race but spent over twenty minutes riding around in circles, even getting in the way of the actual race more than once. This was, admittedly, a little embarrassing. But thankfully, those watching found it more entertaining than anything. My coworker and I had to dock, walk of shame it across a highway (him, drenched because he fell in), and retrieve our belongings while other continued to watch the race. Safe to say that while we may have lost, we brought a lot of laughs to others…
Many would have taken public humiliation at the annual canoe race as a sign to go home, but I did not (there was a lot of delicious food left to try still). Waiting for fresh fried fish, I was once again talked into joining an celebratory event: The Duck Pluck.
Now, it is important for me to mention here that I had never touched a dead animal before. Less than a week prior, the family I live with had fresh duck brought to them and when I was asked to hand them one, I used a bag between myself and the duck. But, in a moment of courage and mostly, not wanting to wimp out in front this family who had taken me in, I signed up.
Participating in the duck pluck is easily the most out-of-my-comfort-zone experience I have had in Yellowknife. The activity consists of racing to grab a duck, plucking it entirely with your hands, then cutting off its wings, and charring it to make sure no plumes remain. Grabbing the duck, I was sure I would not be able to finish. Immediately, multiple women participating moved around me and started to talk me through it. In one ear, I had tips about which direction to pull in and in another, I was being told how yes, this is hard, but it is better than going to the grocery store. To my own surprise, I finished (and I was not in last!!!). A member of my host family even won the event! Once completed, I joined some of the other participants in gutting my duck. Any concerns I had about my bloody hands really melted away when I saw how proud my host family was at my participation and when I realized how proud I was of myself for taking part.
To close off the day, I participated in some very powerful drum circles, something I had never been invited into but which felt extremely special. My time in Yellowknife has been so culturally and spiritually rich. I attribute so much of that to my little Yellowknife family, who embraced me so wholeheartedly. Marsi Cho to them and to the Yellowknives Dene First Nation for making this experience possible.