The Pine Ridge Reservation was again the destination for the second sun dance I attended.  My supervisor and I were invited by a former inmate who was going to dance and this time went for just one day of the dance.

This sun dance was a small family affair with about eight men dancing.  We got lost on our way to the location and ended up in the front yard of someone’s home way off the beaten path.  Finally we succeeded in finding the right place.

We came wearing our long skirts only to see there were teenage girls attending wearing shorts.  There wasn’t a cook shack, but a small stand as we entered which was serving taniga (ta nee ga.)  Taniga is buffalo intestines cut into small circular pieces (after being thoroughly cleaned) cooked in a spicy tomato sauce. It was chewy, rather like calamari.

Our friend danced pulling buffalo skulls.  His back was pierced, strips of leather were threaded through the cuts on his back, and were attached to seven buffalo skulls.  As the singers sang to the drum beat, he danced around the outer edge of the circular dance area until finally the weight of the buffalo skulls he was dragging tore through his skin and they dropped on the grass behind him.

This mode of dancing, dragging skulls, is an alternative to being pierced on the chest and tied to the sun dance tree.  We were told that if the skulls didn’t break through the skin, a small child would be dispatched to sit on the skulls to add weight so the skin would tear.

I can’t really tell you if only the skin is pierced or if some of the muscles under the skin are also cut.  I’ve heard that sometimes happens.

I was honored earlier in the ceremony when he brought his pipe to a gate (entrance to the dance area marked off by sage on both sides and cherry sticks indicating the entrance) and gave it to me to take around to the other spectators to smoke before returning it to him.

This man was dancing in thanksgiving after being reunited with his teenage children after being in prison a long time.  They came to give him moral support as he danced.  While in prison he had waged a legal battle to keep his son from being placed for adoption and won.

There wasn’t a happy ending unfortunately.  He committed more crimes on the reservation and was given a Federal sentence.  I saw him briefly when he was passing through the State penitentiary waiting for Con Air to come for him and other Federal inmates.  His son came to prison later.  As the old saying goes, you can’t win them all.  Drugs can win over spirituality.

Mary Montoya