Saturday, October 24, 2009

Kla-how-eya!

Down at my favourite near-by park there is a totem pole. Near the top you can see Eagle's beak sticking out. At the very top are two chiefs--you can tell by their hats.


And if you look a little closer, you'll notice that one of the chiefs has a real feather in his cap, in the form of a cedar seedling, perhaps planted there by the trickster Crow.


At the base of the totem, we have a human being well-cared for by Bear while a double-headed sea serpent looks on.


Human is maybe not too sure about this situation. You can tell by the look in his eyes and the expression of his mouth.

I took these photos earlier on in my visit here. Lately, it's been raining hard and I've been caught up in family doings and recovering from my ongoing sniffles so haven't been out gathering pictorial souvenirs. In their stead, I offer the protection of the beings in this totem pole to all who come by to visit, whether or not your mocassins leave a trace in the blog.

"Kla-how-eya!"
is a greeting meaning, “Welcome!” or “how are you?” in the Chinook language.


10 comments:

  1. Yesssssssss....
    I can see it
    AMAZING shots (@^.^@)

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  2. So nice to have you back blogging, Anya!

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  3. You it's weird but that sounds like "Kia Ora" in our native language which also means hello/welcome (kee oar a)...we're really not so different eh?
    And 'cheers' sounds like a clinking glass, ever noticed that? :-)

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  4. Hi Lynne! Kla-how-eya? That's a genuine totem pole! made from one tree and not piecemeal. (Well, I guess the feather is new from the Trickster!) interesting the sections rendered green, the color of life. Great find! LOVE xxox

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  5. About two decades ago I had the chance to spend the day with a native american working upon a totem, which later was placed outside of a museum back in Hamburg, Germany.
    Will see whether I'll be able to find out to which tribe he belongs.
    Thank you for that nice memory.
    A wonderful weekend for you !

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  6. Saj, Kla-how-eya, Kia Ora, How Are Ya! Seems like we're all just one big happy bloggy famdamily,I'd say. And no, I hadn't noticed that "cheers" sounds like glasses clinking. Must rush right out and experiment--I have some fine white cranberry cider provided by my sister that should do.

    WV:"tharry" Ath in, "Thaj wath definitely not tharry that thee had thum Tuetheday Tipple thecretly thtored away for later in the week.

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  7. Kla-how-eya, Margaret!
    Yup, she's a real totem pole, all right, though I don't know how old it really is. I know it wasn't in the park when I was a teenager so I think it was brought in from somewhere else. The poles were traditionally painted but of course the colours have worn off over the years. There are some magnificent new ones being created by contemporary First Nations artists. Wonderful that the art has been resurrected and is being allowed to evolve, isn't it.
    Cheers! xo

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  8. Hi Robert, I hope you're making the most of the weekend. Nice that you stopped by and had another memory surface here. I wonder if you met the Native American in Germany? Was he carving the pole there? It seems you have had many many unusual experiences. I suppose it's your great curiosity about life that leads you into such circumstances. Nice that you have fond memories to look back on.

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  9. Hi Lou, it took me a while to get here, stumbling through the thickets of life, no doubt thickets planted by your friend the trickster mentioned here... but better late than never eh ? Well, it's not surprising, I mean Vancoulver is a hell of alot more thickets to cross than just to Newfoundland. The totem is gorgeous, wish we had some totems around here, we just have gargoyles... hope your sniffles are clearing up by now, and that you'll soon be back out on the streets on the trail of Herzog??? Or on the trail of the sasquatch...

    PS WV is "gelyth", as in, "twas brillig and the slithy tove, did gelyth and gyre through the mangy wove"... or something like that. Will get back to my galumphing now... missed y'all this week...
    :-D

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  10. Owen-oh-Blowen.
    Plagued by Tricksters in the thickets hawking third class tickets,
    He's deafened by the crickets while he's gelphing through the wabe.
    And yet he makes his way through the forests green, the ocean blue;
    the statues and the latrines, be they rose or dunny-hued.
    He's happily received here, and sappily reprieved dear,
    while she blows her nose and writes a verse, then pours us all a beer.

    Bonnes vacances! Bises.

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