6/19/08

Tulalips welcome Big Chief Salmon

by Beckye Randall

The Tulalip Tribes welcomed the first salmon of the season on a perfect northwest spring day. The sky was a vibrant blue, a light breeze filtered over the picture-postcard waters of Tulalip Bay and the air was filled with the rich sound of baritone voices, rising and falling in unison to the beat of ceremonial drums.

“We come together for two reasons at the Salmon Ceremony,” said tribal leader Glen Gobin. “We’re here to bless the fishermen, and to welcome back Haik Saib Yo Bouch,” “Big Chief King Salmon” in Lushootseed.

Explaining the ceremony, Gobin’s voice filled the cedar longhouse. “He comes to scout for the other salmon. We go down to greet him and treat him with respect, because he's going to provide for us all through the year. We will share him with our family, and then we will send his bones back to the sea. He will go back and tell his people that the Snohomish, the Tulalip people are worthy of their sacrifice.”

While waiting for news of the honored visitor’s arrival, Gobin and other tribal leaders sang songs of blessings and thanks, accompanied by a chorus of drums and women’s voices lifting through the building’s open chimneys. Shelly Lacy, the tribes’ general manager, performed a blessing ritual to all the fishermen gathered in the longhouse and members circled the sacred space, always moving counterclockwise.

Suddenly, a young runner rushed in, announcing “Our visitor is arriving!”

The Tulalips’ Salmon Ceremony is one of the few American Indian traditional ceremonies that is open to non-natives. Most longhouse activities are closed to outsiders, and the sacred rituals are limited only to tribal members. Since the Salmon Ceremony welcomes guests from the broader community, Gobin provided instruction on proper behavior.

“We will circle the longhouse, and everyone can fall in behind. When Big Chief King Salmon joins us, he will lead the way and we will follow him.”

Stepping out of the dark longhouse and into the bright afternoon sun, the crowd walked to the welcoming point. A canoe filled with tribal fishermen sat in the shallow water, and soon a fern-covered litter carrying the honored visitor was brought ashore.

The salmon’s silver skin glinted in the sunlight as he was transported back into the longhouse for a song of blessing, then into the gym for preparation.

As an estimated 500 people gathered in the tribal gym for a dinner of cedar-smoked salmon, Gobin asked for a moment of remembrance for Carolyn Thornberry, better known as Uppy, who passed away earlier this month.

“This is the first Salmon Ceremony we’ve had without Uppy in the kitchen,” said Gobin. “We don’t usually speak of the dead for a year, but this is an exception because she was so much a part of this.”

Finally, the remains of Big Chief Salmon were laid back on the litter, adorned with greenery, to be returned to the sea. As the drums began again, a prayer was sung for a bountiful salmon run and a year of peace and prosperity.

Because of their ancestral connection to the earth, members of the Tulalip Tribes recognize the changes being brought about by global warming and pollution.

“We need to take our heads out of the sand and acknowledge the problems we’re causing to Mother Earth,” said Gobin to the longhouse audience.

“Our people look out seven generations. Are we looking only for today?”