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"Sleeping on the ground, washing in the river, looking up at the stars, putting wood in a bonfire are things that people don't do anymore." Or at least, not often, thinks Dominique Gay-Spriet, a Frenchwoman who developed a beautiful relationship with the natives north of Val d'Or. The expeditions that this adopted Quebecer offers allows the public to get to know these people who are so near in terms of land, yet so far from us in terms of culture and way of life.
If we now are able to live like natives for five days, following guides to different camps in native territory, things weren't always that way. Dominique's first contact with these peoples was a difficult one, in part because of their great deal of pride, not to mention that most of them were wondering why this white woman wanted to interfere with their lives.
In time, a project was brought to the negociation table, and Ms. Gay-Spriet's adventure-tourism business was born. At first, the elders were rather reticent at the thought of letting this French woman bring her hordes of tourists here. "We can't go into a native village unless we have the elders' permission; it's just not done," our hostess informs us. But soon, tourists and natives were able to build a bridge between the two cultures. Of course, the visitors are converts to begin with," explains Dominique. "They come here with no prejudices. In fact, they come with a favorable bias: They want to meet with the natives and exchange ideas."
Nonetheless, there is an intense culture shock. People are cut off from all that they know: cars, cell phones and all other gadgets. They're not use to being this free. The behaviours of the two cultures that are coming in contact are extremely different. "When you walk into native home, nobody tells you to sit, to eat or go to sleep," says Dominique. "So for two days, you don't eat until someone says, 'Eat!' That's what it's there for! And if you want to sleep, you simply go to bed. It's just a different way of seeing things." That's the least you can say!
The people here are living in an absolutely different universe, even though they live in the same world. Dominique tells us about a Parisian lawyer who came here and was surprised to see that the natives eat while sitting in a circle, without any tables or chairs. So he decided to improvise a set of tables and chairs from materials he found in the forest, all under the amused gaze of the natives.
During that time, his two children learned how to build a sweat lodge, which is a kind of traditional sauna, used as a therapeutic tool, but mainly for spiritual purification. When it came time to leave the native community, the lawyer's children were weeping, torn as they were by the separation from their new friends. Their father then asked Dominique, "So what about me. Am I just a jerk?"
Dominique has piles and piles of comments like these. Tourists go back home having received an indescribable gift, having felt the ancient sorcery of the shamans come over them. Úquot;Suddenly, they're put in a different context,Úquot; says Dominque. Úquot;And that's precisely what's so interesting about the experience. When they leave, I want people to have a new outlook. I want them to communicate with the native people, and vice versa. Once you've done that, you simply have no choice but to think important things through.Úquot; It's the mirror effect; you see yourself as you never have before.
The native people also get a lot out of the experience. They ask the tourists a lot of questions, and pinpoint their home towns on road maps that Dominque provides them. After each stay, people exchange addresses, and soon begin writing letters back and forth. It's the concept of cultural exchange, at its best!
The lessons to be learned here are simple, but too often forgotten. Our relationship with nature is among those and the concept of a traditional meal where you thank the divine forces that gave you the food you are about to enjoy. There is no such thing as wasted meat here; people use everything, then fish bones are returned to the river, as a gesture of thanks. Native people certainly have a more harmonious and respectful rapport with nature, which they honour on a daily basis. In return, we honour them.