Back on the road, this time to South Dakota

Why South Dakota? I'm at the Cheyenne River Youth Project, in the town of Eagle Butte on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation of the Lakota people, aka 'The Rez'. Why am I here for Christmas? Well I'll get to that.

The journey here stared yesterday at 5am when I woke up and found out my flight hadn't been cancelled, against all odds. Alton's roommate Tyler drove me to Detroit airport, which took over an hour when it usually takes 35 mins on account of snow on the I-94 reducing traffic to 1.5-2.5 lanes of largely freestyle traffic. At one point we pulled to the freeway shoulder to scrape ice off the wipers. So getting to the airport and checking in was quite a relief.

A relief quickly curtailed by news that my flight to Minneapolis would be departing so late that I'd definitely miss my connection to Pierre, SD. So I sat in the NorthWest lounge, which I'd paid $50 for the convenience of admission, checked my email and munched on what turned out to be a very expensive bagel. Then the first of many Chrismas miracles: the incoming flight arrived earlier than they thought and my flight was rescheduled such that I'd have plenty of time to make the connection.

We boarded, backed out and then sat on the de-icing pad for 15 minutes. Then we taxid over to que up for spray-deicing...a 15 minute wait followed by a 15 minute spraydown with glycol to get ice off the wings (essential for flying apparently) and then a 15 minute taxi to the runway. Now I'm reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance not just because it's a good book but to calm me down. Turbulence during the flight is not as bad as over the Southern Alps on the way to Hokitika but the rest of the plane is freaking out.

We land at 11.10am and my next flight is due to leave at 11.50 - heaps of time! Unfortunately there is nobody out there to wave us into the gate so I start to get nervous again. Finally, once we make it to the gate I exit gracefully and swiftly, run down to the lounge to check in with Julie at the Rez, and then run back to my plane. The way people look at me it's like they've never seen anybody do it before. Anyway I make it to the gate momentarily before boarding begins, and meet Winifred, an Irish woman also heading out here. Even in the US, as your final destination decreases in size and gets closer, degrees of separation decrease exponentially. We board, and the hunters (obvious by the fact they WEAR THEIR CAMO ON THE PLANE!) behind me are heading to a peasant farm owned by a guy that knows the South Dakota musician living in NYC sitting beside them.

Then the captain asks us to get back off the plane - a routine maintenance check needs to be performed on some unnamed widget. So we get back off and wait for 20 mins before reboarding. It's nice though, as a young family who otherwise would have missed it can make the flight, and the next one is 10 hours later. Once we're back on board we take off without incident for a brief stopover in Watertown, SD before heading onto Pierre, capital of South Dakota. We land there in almost white-out conditions, undergo deicing and are ready to take off when a discrepancy is discovered in the passenger numbers, even though people only left the plane. We sit there in growing heat (prop plane systems don't work fully without the engines or a ground electrical unit) while the pilots argue with NorthWest HQ about the reality of the situation versus what their booking computer says. Eventually they work it out and 40 minutes later we've touched down in Pierre, almost on time after a thoroughly comical series of delays.

Winny and I were met by Alex and Angela from the center, and we go shopping in Walmart (great food selection, and cheap compared to Ann Arbor!) before the two hour drive to Eagle Butte. The roads are clear of snow and traffic and we get acquainted and caught up on the recent goings on at the Rez. Winifred has been here five times previously, though this is her first Christmas. She came initially to do something a little different and to engage her interest in Native American culture, and now is drawn back at semi-regular intervals by the bonds developed.

So how did I come to be here of all places? The simple answer is that Andy volunteered here over the summer, and bought 20 tickets in a quilt raffle for me, which I promptly won. The quilt is amazing and to say thanks I sponsored one of the Santa letters (of which I've been packed dozens over the past few days) as part of the Christmas toy drive. Andy heard about this and at the end of a letter wrote: "PS - I think it's awesome you're sponsoring a Santa letter. I hear Christmas is a pretty magical time out on the Rez and would probably bring guys like us to our knees." When I read that, I had been thinking of what to do for Christmas, and that remark seeded the plan I'm now on. I emailed Andy, asked if it would be appropriate to ask Julie if they needed any help out here over the Christmas break, and things proceeded from there.

Why am I here? The cynic in me says I'm exorcising some kind of white liberal guilt at not having volunteered on Christmas before, and not having worked with an indigenous community in my own country. The opportunist says this was simply the first 'offer' I had for Christmas while the too-polite Kiwi retorts that I simply didn't want to impose on anybody for Christmas and so found some way of avoiding awkward 'what are you doing for the break' questions from American friends. The traveler says I jumped at the opportunity to do something different, while the scholar says I'm here to learn something about the culture of the First Americans. The son, relative and friend in me says I wanted to be with other people who are away from home for Christmas.

I really don't know what the real reason is, surely some convex combination of all the above.

Regardless, I'm really happy to be here, even though the air outside freezes your nostril hairs on the 30 metre walk from the accommodation in the Main Center to the Teen Center where the packing is. The staff and other volunteers are friendly, welcoming and inquisitive, and I've been working hard wrapping presents all day today. We address every present "from Santa" and it is humbling to imagine how excited they will make the kids on Thursday.