Starlight teases me awake before dawn. Atop a hill, a living rainbow of saris. The drumbeat beckons us through the heat. The women greet us singing, place bindis on our foreheads. At the summit we dance on the bare earth.
Introductions take time, but no one minds.
We're sent little silken threads of love that need no translation. I see you living on your own land. In Canada, the government put us on poor land and took away our children. Myra tells them about the residential schools, and about people reclaiming their culture today. She says she's a school principal where restoration is taking place.