This is very interesting. What is sad, under my humble point of vue, is that these native cultures are now folklore and something for tourism. Nowadays, it is beautiful to look at their masks, and their art. I hope their true essence is still there.
For outsiders, it may seem that way, yet for many their culture is still embedded in their hearts and souls – and they have had a rough ride indeed. If things go completely south, they are people who could perhaps best adjust back to their traditional ways, more so then we in the west could do, considering we don’t know what our ancestral roots really are. In that respect, not all, but many still have their true ancestral essence, it is just hidden away waiting to renew, or so it seems.
Wow--powerful and beautiful images that speak to me of the many ways to interpret knowledge of this world.
As best that can be remembered, this is one story told:
The drummer speaker tells a story of an outcast child, sitting alone whittling wood. All the people and other children ignored him on account of a deformity. There is also an evil presence living in the mountain that comes down once in awhile and takes children, carrying them off in her weaved basket. On this day she comes down and being all alone the outcast is scooped up into the basket and then the presence takes other children, doing the same and climbs back into the mountain cave. The boy with the deformity decides he needs to help the others and using his whittling knife, cuts a hole in the bottom of the basked and falls to the ground, then pulls the others free. He says to them, “I know the way off the mountain” and leads them back to the village. There is great pain from the villagers from the loss of their children and also a shrill of anguish from the mountain as the evil presence realizes the children have escaped. The boy then leads the children back to their parents and he is welcomed as a hero to their people and they are shamed also by their past actions, vowing never to disregard another.