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Local residents gathered in Inwood Hill Park for a a Native American sweat lodge ceremony, the first of its kind in recent memory. According to Luis Iukibuel Ramos, the event organizer, a sweat lodge performs many functions, including serving as a form of medicine that purifies the body and soul.
Story by Sherry Mazzocchi
Video by Sherry Mazzocchi
Photos by QPHOTONYC
There was a fire in the Park this week, and it went just as planned.
So did the appearance of the Grandfather spirits, who appeared after they were summoned during a Native American sweat lodge ceremony, the first of its kind in recent memory.
Just behind the Parks Department’s Nature Center, in Inwood Hill Park on Sun., Dec. 4th, Taino Native Americans built a fire under the watchful gaze of Park Rangers.
Just as it began to roar, the firekeeper added pinches of tobacco and 28 stones. With drums, rattles and song, he and his apprentices prayed over the fire, asking the spirits to bless the ceremony with their presence.
The spirits obliged.
According to Luis Iukibuel Ramos, the ceremony almost didn’t happen. Ramos, a Washington Heights resident of Taino descent, explained that while he had originally asked to hold a sweat lodge ceremony in October, he had been met with resistance from the Department in light of safety concerns.
“They didn’t want to issue a fire permit,” Ramos said.
After seeking out, and receiving, the assistance of New York City Councilmember Ydanis Rodriguez and the New York Civil Liberties Union, Ramos eventually got the permit. The Parks Department limited the ceremony to two hours on Sunday afternoon and offered the use of the wigwam behind the Nature Center.
The wigwam, built by the Delaware Indians for the Parks Department is not ideal, typically, for a sweat lodge. Sweat lodges are smaller and designed to hold heat. The wigwam was tall and slightly drafty, as heat escaped through the hole at the top.
But no one cared.
The park itself is sacred, said Vanessa Inarunikia Pastrana.
The trees, rocks and earth hold memories of the indigenous Delaware and Lanape tribes. “It is an honor that the spirits of this land are welcoming us,” she said.
Nearly 30 people of different native traditions, as well as friends and locals gathered in a circle.
The seven directions (east, south, north, west, above, below and within), were called in. Five sun dancers stood in front of the fire for songs and prayer. Even a park ranger chimed in on a wooden flute.
Then people shed their shoes and outdoor clothing and ducked into the wigwam for the ritual.
According to Ramos, a sweat lodge performs many functions. At its most fundamental level, it is a form of medicine that purifies the body and soul. It serves as a sacred place for prayer, to ask for healing and give thanks to spirits and the Creator.
And it also serves as a gathering of the community.
“It’s the foundation of all rituals,” he said. “Whenever you want to do something, you have to do the sweat lodge first.”
And so, how to create a sweat lodge?
First stones are cooked in the fire, after which they become sacred.
Using a pitchfork and shovels, the firekeeper, Roman Guaraguarix Perez, and his assistants brought 28 stones into the wigwam. They called each one abuelo, or grandfather. The number 28 signifies both the lunar and a woman’s menstrual cycle. Being in a lodge is like being inside a womb, or Mother Earth, Guaraguarix Perez said.
Seven stones, representing the directions (east, south, north, west, above, below and within), are brought in for four rounds. The first round welcomes the ancestors of the seven directions. The second and third rounds are for prayer and healing. In the last round, spirits are thanked for their assistance.
The sweat lodge ceremony Ramos held was based on a Crow tradition. Ramos is learning Taino Guanara rituals and will start practicing them later next year. While indigenous Taino tribes were wiped out by Europeans, Ramos said their DNA is still in the Caribbean gene pool.
Ramos poured water on the stones, causing steam to rise like a prayer to the spirits. He thanked the spirits for the opportunity to hold the ceremony in a sacred part of the city.
Salvador Bolivar Madera, an assistant firekeeper, said ceremonies bring people together with the earth, the heavens and the stars. “That’s where we come from,” he said.
Madera said that if such rituals and ceremonies were ongoing, it would have a powerful impact for not only the spirits of the ancestors, but also for the entire neighborhood.
“The ceremonies bring in vibrations of positivity,” he said. “It’s a peaceful, harmonious way to come together.”
To view the fire ceremony, please visit the following links:
http://tinyurl.com/c5jjsaj
http://tinyurl.com/d834uuo
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