On The Reservation

Over the summer I went camping to an amazing place called Lake Cushman in Washington (state). I’m not sure if it was an Indian reservation but the territory was owned by Native Americans. The place was extremely beautiful and was by far the best campground I’d ever been to.  There was a lake nestled in a huge chain of fresh pine-green mountains. It was said that the lake formed from glaciers that melted over time and that the valley that now holds millions of gallons of water was once a small town(according to the campfire stories you can even find houses and human skeletons if you were to dive to the bottom.). The water was crystal clear and little islets stood randomly here and there. Tree trunks were visible in the shallower water and when I was treading water in the deep I could feel cold currents brush against my feet that would send chills down my spine.

At night the only things to fear were cougars or bears but neither of those is as scary as the perils of a big city. As we drove away from the wilderness I began to see houses. Most of these were inhabited by Native Americans. They were small, no larger than a trailer and the houses were surrounded by all kinds of trash. Old bikes, broken down cars, canoes and fishing nets adorned the luscious green backyards of the Indians. It didn’t make sense, there were trees everywhere and it felt like we were in a forest but somehow everything looked dirty. I remembered reading in 3^rd grade that Natives never wasted anything so I assumed that all of those things were going to be used in the future. But now that I think about it I realize that the garbage trucks that passed by my sister’s house every Tuesday morning (my older sister lives in Poulsbo, Washington) probably didn’t drive to the reservation.

Once I went to a powwow with a friend in the Suquamish tribe (we read about those guy) it was pretty fun. They had a ton of fry bread, smoked salmon and thousands of different types of items associated with Native American culture such as bows, arrows, furs, skins, and wood carvings. There were several performances and the whole thing was just awesome.

Beat Street was Sweet!

Beat Street!!

We’ve finally finished watching the whole movie and I must say that I was disappointed with the ending. The movie was really entertaining with the b-boys and the graffiti.  It’s a perfect combination of awesomeness!! But…I don’t know if it was just my stupidity or my inability to find the story line in movies but I saw no point to the movie.  What was it about? Did I miss the part where they have a sad moment and work hard to overcome it? The story didn’t have a climax and if it did it was probably very vaguely touched upon. If anything it might have been the part where the graffiti writer falls in the train tracks and dies. But that wasn’t even sad. The movie would have been a lot better if the main character’s younger brother would have been the one to die. But somehow the movie was fun to watch. It must have been all of the singing and dancing. Hmmm.. I feel like I keep contradicting myself saying that I liked it but it was pointless. But I recommend it. It has cool music and the dancers are awesome.