Pikangikum

Pikangikum. I have been told that it’s like a third world country. I’ve never been to a reserve since I’m old enough to remember, but I was looking forward to a new cultural experience.

B. has done some remodeling on his house. The walls were nicely painted, he hung drywall on the ceiling and there was new laminate flooring in the house. The bedroom was its own room, but there was no door- just a large, open doorway. The family’s beds were all in the same room. In the middle of the kitchen/living area was an old wood stove to heat the house. It sat there looking to me like a huge danger. But like Kendall said, kids probably quickly learn to stay away from it. It had an open kettle of water on top, giving off steam. I’m assuming this was to add some humidity to the air. I didn’t see a washroom anywhere in the house.
As we drove through Pikangikum looking for B.’s house, I noticed small out-buildings. “Are those outhouses?” I asked Kendall. He didn’t really think so. (I had to go, by the way.) At any rate, Kendall thought B. would have a washroom inside. But when we finally found his house, I saw an outhouse in the yard with the door hanging wide open.

Now I don’t have a terrible aversion to outhouses. (Especially up here as compared to tropical Costa Rica where I regularly used an outhouse among the multitudes of spiders, scorpions, snakes, etc.) In fact, I must say that I pride myself on being okay using the bathroom in a large variety of situations. In a couple places I was in Peru, we didn’t even have outhouses. When I first asked a missionary kid where I could use the bathroom, he told me that most people went out in the street. Well, I waited until I found more suitable information and used a cornfield instead. At one point, there were men working in the mostly-hidden spot where my teammate and I usually used the bathroom. With no outhouse nearby, we finally had to just go behind a mud house with people in sight. So yes, lots of interesting places. (squatty potties, mountaintop, in swarms of mosquitoes, a pit stop during snowmobiling, in Charlie and Marilyn’s pool, etc.) (Just kidding about that last one. I just wanted to freak out those of you who swam with me there.)

But back to the outhouse at B.’s house. I had to go and I’m mostly okay with, though not eager about, outhouses. But I didn’t know if it would be awkward for B. if I asked for the washroom and he, having lived much of his life with indoor plumbing, would have to tell me to go outside. Besides, I can’t say that I was eager to experience the below freezing temperatures in that way. (Kendall pointed out later that it wouldn’t have been that bad- After all, there was Styrofoam on the seat to serve as insulation.)

All of this made me wonder how B. felt about Kendall visiting him in Pikangikum. I think it meant a lot to him. His community is so different from what is normal for us. He lived in Red Lake for so many years. Was it a normal shift for him to go from a home in Red Lake to his home in Pikangikum? They seem so different to me. Maybe it was a relief to move to a place where he wasn’t a minority. Maybe to B., the 2 communities are different, but equal. In my way of thinking, one is better than the other. But I’m so white. Maybe to B., Pikangikum is definitely better. Some of what I put value on is probably frivolous and meaningless to someone in Pikangikum. Our realities are so different. It makes me think anyway…