Poem about the making of a Lakota Dessert

Lakota Dessert
When I was a small child one of the activities the grandchildren who spent their summers with our grandmother at the Poor Buffalo ranch was gathering traditional food. This was then stored for the winter. I attempted to capture this activity in the following poem. I hope you enjoy it.

Wojapi


I

Just like everything else in our world
there are two kinds of Wojapi the
traditional and the modern kind
I’ve made both.

Because I now live in today’s world
of computers, E-mail, FAX machines
and fast cars,
I can’t remember the last time
I’ve even made the modern kind.

I do remember that several years ago
I taught a niece how to make it over
the telephone
it’s real easy all it takes is a can of
blueberry pie filling (my family’s favorite flavor)
some water and cornstarch.

But to make the traditional wojapi
takes planning especially if you want to fix it
when the snow is blowing at sixty miles an hour
and its forty below and you want to prove
how really traditional you are to some
white sociologist who is sitting at your table
all starry eyed looking beyond your head to 1868
trying real hard to experience the “Real Lakota Way”.

You can’t hardly grab a can of blueberry pie filling
and prove your a real Indian by whipping up
a batch of modern wojapi
No way - he won’t fall for the can.

II

To do it right you would have
had to go out in the middle
of a hot sweaty August day
among the flies, grasshoppers
and rattle snakes
and find a black cherry tree.

You would have had
to spend hours straining
your muscles reaching up
and picking the little black berries
that stain your hands and teeth for
days afterwards.



III

Now if you were really going to do it right
so you could recount the tail to your
starry eyed guest you would have taken
along the proper equipment. An old lard pail
(the two quart variety) hanging on a piece of
string to allow you to use both hands.

If you were a good fast strong Lakota women,
in a very short period of time, you would have
picked several cans but if you were like me
it would take you hours.

Hours of sweat running down the pits of your
arms, down your torso, down the backs of
your legs and all across your forehead while
being bit by every blood sucking insect around
for miles.

IV

Having finished the first phase of making
traditional wojapi you would now be ready
to move on to the second phase.

This, of course-- should have been completed
under a shade assembled next to your house
because no self respecting traditional Lakota
home went without an old fashion traditional
shade where all activity was conducted through
the hot summer months -from cooking to sleeping.

The shade was built using young cottonwood trees,
with the first Y’s in their trunks, these held up
cross logs tied tightly together with more branches
added to make a loosely woven roof. On top of all
these strong limbs, willow branches were added
with their leaves in full bloom.

Babies were hung in their cradle boards and
drifted off to sleep to the rustling of those leaves
and all manner of gossip being discussed
to pass away the hours.

V

The tools we used had been handed down
from great, great grandmothers two sets of
beautifully hand-crafted mortar and pestle
made from Black Hills pink quartz. In the
center was a small indent about the size of
a small fist. This is where you would place
the berries and proceed to smash them
seeds and all making a beautiful purple paste.

If you measured just right each handful of
berries smashed would make a small flat patty
when rolled and patted out.

You would then place all of these little patties
on a flat card board and put them out in the
hot sun to dry. They would eventually become
flat little hard disks – easily stored for the winter.

VI

This is what you would bring out to impress
your sociologist guestthat your
“A Real Indian – of the Traditional Variety”
and make the real wojapi.

But if your like all the rest of us who live on
the fast track. You’ll call for a pizza to be
delivered and still make him believe your
traditional while checking your messages
on your cellular phone.

Mary Lee Johns