Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The Bulletin. (Bend, OR) 1963-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 21, 2022)
A8 THE BULLETIN • SUNDAY, AUGUST 21, 2022 Columbia River Salmon are at the core of ancient religion BY DEEPA BHARATH • Associated Press A LONG THE COLUMBIA RIVER — James Kiona stands on a rocky ledge overlooking Lyle Falls where the water froths and rushes through steep canyon walls just before merging with the Columbia River. His silvery ponytail flutters in the wind, and a string of eagle claws adorns his neck. Kiona has fished for Chinook salmon for decades on his family’s scaffold at the edge of the falls, using a dip net suspended from a 33-foot pole. “Fishing is an art and a spir- itual practice,” says Kiona, a Yakama Nation elder. “You’re fighting the fish. The fish is fighting you, tearing holes in the net, jerking you off the scaffold.” He finds strength, sanctity, even salvation in that struggle. The river saved Kiona when he returned from Vietnam with post-war trauma, giving him therapy no hospital could. When he lies on the rocks by the rushing river and closes his eyes, he hears the songs and the voices of his ances- tors. The water, he says, holds the history of the land and his people. “It heals you.” From its headwaters in British Columbia where the Rocky Mountains crest, the Columbia River flows south into Washington state and then westward and into the Pacific Ocean at its mouth near Astoria, Oregon. Just be- low the confluence with the Snake River, the Columbia’s largest tributary, the river turns through the Cascade Mountain Range, carving out the Columbia River Gorge. It’s a spectacular canyon, 80 miles long and up to 4,000 feet deep, with cliffs, ridges, streams and waterfalls. For thousands of years, Native tribes in this area have relied on Nch’i-Wána, or “the great river,” for its salmon and steelhead trout, and its sur- rounding areas for the fields bearing edible roots, medicinal herbs and berry bushes as well as the deer and elk whose meat and hides are used for food and ritual. Yet the river is under threat because of climate change, hy- droelectric dams and indus- trial pollution. Warming wa- ters linked to climate change endanger the salmon, which need cooler temperatures to survive. Hydroelectric dams on the Columbia and its tribu- taries have curtailed the river’s flow, further imperiling salm- on’s migration from the Pacific upstream to their freshwater spawning grounds, and threat- ening millenia-old spiritual traditions that bind these Na- tive communities together. “We are the salmon peo- ple or river people,” says Aja DeCoteau, executive direc- tor of the Portland-based Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission, which rep- resents the interests of the four Columbia River treaty tribes — Yakama, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Nez Perce — in policy, advocacy and manage- ment of the basin. “Without water there are no fish, plants or herbs.” Each year the tribes honor the salmon, roots, berries, deer and elk — which they believe were originally placed Jessie Wardarski/AP photos Scaffolds used by Indigenous people while fishing line the banks of the Columbia River on June 18 in Fort Rains, Washington. The waterway, which Natives call Nch’i-Wána, or “the great river,” has sustained Indigenous people in the region for millennia. Bronsco Jim Jr., mid-Columbia River chief, cleans the longhouse altar, a rectangle of Earth, with water before a ceremonial meal at the Celilo Village longhouse June 19 in Celilo Village. The tribe’s first foods are placed on the table in seasonal order before the meal begins. in the land for their suste- nance — with what are known as “first food ceremonies.” In their creation story, the salmon, deer, elk, roots and berries offered to provide sus- tenance to humans, and hu- mans in turn were given the responsibility by the Creator to care for these resources. Elders speak of how streams flow from the mountains sanctified by the prayers of ancestors who went there to commune with the spirits. These rivulets then flow down and merge with the Columbia. If Nch’i-Wána is the main ar- tery of the land, those streams are like the veins that feed it. So even the smallest creek is vital and sacred. At communal meals, tribe members typically begin and end with water — “You take a drink of water to purify your- self before you eat and you end the meal with water to show respect for what you’ve eaten,” DeCouteau says. Tribes also use the river’s water and rocks for rituals such as sweat lodge purifi- cation ceremonies, held in low, dome-shaped structures where river rocks are heated along with herbal medicine. “After you sweat and pray, there is also the practice of jumping in the river to cleanse yourself,” DeCouteau says. “It’s hard to continue practicing these rituals when the river is so contaminated.” Bill Yallup Jr. was 6 when Celilo Falls “drowned,” as he puts it. Known as Wyam to Native people, the thundering cas- cade was a sacred place where for 15,000 years Indigenous tribes netted salmon as the fish jumped upstream. It was also their economic nerve center, with the salmon trad- ing for all manner of goods from feathers to copper to wampum, beads crafted from shells. The falls fell silent in 1957 NEW YEA R, NEW DIGS ! A dog named Kaloua sits next to freshly caught salmon along the Co- lumbia River. when the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers erected The Dalles Dam, flooding the area and creating the Celilo Lake res- ervoir. Young salmon, or smolts, swim down the Columbia to the ocean, where they grow for between one and five years. Then they migrate back upstream to spawn. Some are caught and become a source of sustenance for the people, and others die and become one with the environment. The cy- cle repeats over and over. “The sacredness of this river,” Yallup says, “lies in the sacrifice the salmon make each time they fulfill their promise to come back.” It was worries over the spring salmon’s disappearance from the river that inspired Elaine Harvey to get her bach- elor’s degree in aquatic and fishery science. She is also concerned for species like the Pacific lamprey, which has “been around since the dino- saurs” but today faces possible extinction. Now a fish biologist for Ya- kama Fisheries, Harvey says what keeps her up at night is the “race to harness green en- ergy” that has brought multi- national corporations to the Columbia River. “Wind turbines and solar farms are impacting our ar- cheological sites, cultural re- source sites, wildlife and fish,” she says, pointing to a sacred mountain near the John Day Dam that the Native people call Push-pum. “Our root fields are on that mountain. We could lose access to our food.” Harvey says she will never leave the river because that’s what she was taught by her elders. “We have a real, deep con- nection to all these places. Our blood line is here.” Harvey’s cousin, Bron- sco Jim Jr., was appointed mid-Columbia River chief when he was 21 and in that capacity performs longhouse services, first food ceremonies and funerals. Sunlight streams into the longhouse during a recent ceremonial meal with elders at historic Celilo Village. Jim is wearing shell earrings and a beaded necklace with the pendant of a horse’s silhouette honoring his ancestors who rode them. In Native families that in- habit the Columbia Basin, edu- cation about first foods begins at home and continues in these longhouses, accompanied by teaching and ceremony. Deeply held beliefs also dictate the rules of food gathering. Community members are required to wait for that first feast to honor each food be- fore they head out to harvest it. In the longhouse and out in the mountains, the food-gath- ering is accompanied by song. “These songs and ceremo- nies are part of everything we do,” Jim says, adding that los- ing them could cost his people their spiritual identity. “They feed our body and soul.” CARE THAT’S MORE THAN SKIN DEEP Your skin is more than, well, skin deep. It’s your body’s largest organ, protecting you from the outside world and helping you keep it all together. Literally. Our care is more than skin deep: from the prevention and treatment of skin cancer to medical dermatology and aesthetics, our team of caregivers know we are treating the whole you, not just your skin. Our patients love our exceptional care and genuine compassion. We think you will, too. Discover what makes us different. Call for an appointment today 541-323-7546 Stop by and check out our inventory for outdoor fun! MENTION THIS AD TO SAVE 10% Off OFF YOUR PURCHASE 1531 NE 3rd Street • Bend 541-382-2341 • horseplaybend.com Gerald Peters, MD FAAD, FACMS Ericka Luckel MHS, PA-C Julie Natoli MHS, PA-C 541-323-SKIN (7546) • www.petersderm.com • 2353 NE Conners Ave, Bend Memory Care Our community specializes in Memory Care for residents with Alzheimer’s Disease or Dementia-related illness. 20225 Powers Rd | Bend | 541-388-9800 Ann Reitan MHS, PA-C Assisted Living & Memory Care Visit our Premier Frontier Campus Assisted living is the perfect option for mature adults who need a little extra care but want to maintain a fun and social lifestyle. 20215 Powers Rd | Bend | 541-388-9800
