22 November 2016


Monica and I passed out flyers and organized donated groceries. No need to send any more canned beans for a while! A friend of one of the women we worked with had to have her arm amputated due to the "concussion grenade" used on her by police Sunday. How do they rationalize using that on someone who poses no physical threat? The sun came out for a few hours. More vehicles appear to be arriving than leaving, raising sand to be carried by the sometimes high winds. I met a man coming out of an old brightly-painted Pastors for Peace bus brings supporters here from NYC for a week at a time. Whether or not one makes close interpersonal connections, there is a palpable excitement that comes in knowing that everyone you pass, in this dusty and frigid utopia, is aware and willing to act against the complacence shared by the majority of our citizenry. There is a loudspeaker by one of the Sacred Fire circles where one may here updates. An elder chanted and spoke in his mellifluous Native tongue, extolling the power of prayer over the stock market. We returned to the hotel for a hot bath, clothing smoked by the fires, thinking of those at the camps tonight.

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