Mining and Sustainable Development II - DTIE

Mining
If you give you must always expect
twice in return – a South African’s
experience in Canada
Grant Mitchell, Senior Policy Analyst, Minerals and Energy Policy Centre, P.O. Box 395, Wits 2050, South Africa
I
’m one of a party of about twenty-five people,
on a traditional Indian canoe paddling off the
Island of Vancouver in the Pacific ocean. It’s getting
dark and the temperature has dropped to
below zero at water level and it is only the rhythmic
paddling that keeps us from freezing up.
At the helm, just visible in the dark, is a native
North American – or First Nations as they prefer
to be called – who is slowly beating a drum and
singing in an ancient chant. The water rushes past
the gunwales and one feels the power and stability
of the canoe as it surges towards a dark shape
on the horizon, an island some kilometres off.
This is not some tourist Eco-tour or a scene
from a movie set but a collection of First Nations
people from the local village who, together with
us – researchers from the Minerals and Energy
Policy Centre in Johannesburg – make up this
strange modern day Indian raiding party. The
purpose of our visit is to study how the First
Nations people are dealing with issues such as land
restitution claims, mineral rights and the continual
shifting boundaries between what constitute
their traditional rights and the rights of the
provinces and the state.
The mythology of the North American Indians,
the First Nations, is deeply entrenched in the
psyche of North America. Whilst they have been
marginalised and their culture all but destroyed by
the North American settlers, the mythology
around them still exerts a powerful fascination
over American and Canadian whites. Off-road
vehicles are given traditional names such as
Cherokee whilst mainstream advertising has capitalised
on the myth of the pure native American
way of life before it was buried under centuries of
colonisation. The irony is that hardly any whites
have entered a First Nations reserve and knowledge
of their culture and traditions has only been
preserved by oral history. But they are attempting
to restore their identity and to tackle the enormous
problems of alcoholism, drug abuse and
family disintegration which have resulted from
the fragmentation of their traditional way of life.
The man paddling in front of me is called Dave
Cole. He is a Mohawk and a community activist.
He’s been brought in to tackle some of the social
issues confronting the Kwakiutl community in
Port Hardy, where we are being hosted. After we
reach shore many hours later he expounds on the
issues facing the community. “The fault lies in the
past policies,” he says in his North American
62 ◆ UNEP Industry and Environment – Special issue 2000
drawl. “Up until the sixties we were not allowed
to speak our own language, or practise our customs
or religion. To reconstruct our history is
going to be an enormous task.” All around the village
there is evidence of economic hardship. The
community has suffered the twin problems of
diminishing salmon runs and deforestation, both
central to maintaining the traditional First
Nations lifestyle. In addition, the closure of a copper
mine in the region has led to further unemployment
in the community.
But the First Nations have kept some aspects of
their culture. Whale watching for instance. On
the horizon to the West of the canoe the waters
suddenly part and a forty foot humpback whale
emerges from the depths as if in slow motion, its
entire mass completely exposed for a split second.
It then crashes down into the water, its enormous
tail slowly submerging like a fan. It’s no more than
fifty metres away and I am seized with panic. I
know from my sailing days that whales can sink
yachts. The villager in front of me assures me that
whales are peaceful creatures. “If you don’t interfere
with them they leave you alone,” she says
nonchalantly. I guess that centuries of intimate
knowledge of whale behaviour count. But I’m still
not relaxed.
***
We’re reaching the shore. It looms up a dark
mass and the heavy canoe, carved by hand out of
a massive cedar log, grinds to a halt on the beach
pebbles. We all climb out and haul it up to shore.
Some First Nations people are there to greet us
and they escort us up to a camp fire on the beach.
We all huddle around the fire. Then two men
burst into chant. It’s beautiful and lyrical and it
recalls ancient voices. When they have finished
they turn to us. “Do you sing? We want to hear
songs from Africa.”
We line up and attempt to sing the National
Anthem. Its not the best rendition but we get
applause anyway.
It’s getting colder and we all return to the canoe
and begin the four kilometre paddle back to the
village. I can’t tell you how beautiful it all is.
Back at the original point of departure we haul
the canoe on to the beach and make our way to
the reserve to Dave Cole’s house. We all end up in
his tiny lounge, where food has been prepared.
Many people from the village drop in to see the
South Africans. A First Nations MP tells us about
settlements and land claims. A sculptor talks
about Levi Strauss’s interpretation of North American
First Nations. They ask us about South
Africa. Many questions, much shared experience.
Then we exchange gifts.
We have been told to bring gifts by our Canadian
tour hosts as this is a First Nations custom.
We hand over Ndebele beadwork and our hosts
thank us in their polite, understated manner.
Then Dave Cole returns to the room holding a
pile of books and some feathers. In his slow measured
tones he tells us of the significance of gifts
to travellers. “Gifts,” he says, “in the old days were
a form of economic exchange. If you give a gift to
someone you expect twice in return.” He then
holds up the eagle feathers and talks of their significance.
“Birds have always been important to
us because they can go where they wish, they light
where they may, and they’re free. We take these
feathers from the birds. We use them in our ceremony
because the feathers remind us of the Creator.
The eagle flies highest in the sky of all the
birds and so he is the most sacred of all. He is the
highest of all the birds and so belongs to all the
tribes, all the people.”
We are then each handed a book and an eagle
feather. My book is a beautiful limited edition on
First Nation folklore. Dave Cole has taken it from
his personal collection. I feel quite emotional as
we shake hands and depart.
It’s dark and we drive past the humble houses
in the reserve. I let the images of the day run by
me. If you give you must always expect twice in
return. This sentence rings through me. I am soon
to return home to South Africa where communities
face the same issues of poverty and lack of
development. It really is a global challenge. How
can I give back twice as much of the knowledge
that I have acquired?
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