The Roar of the Falls: My Journey with Kaya

The sound of the falls grows quieter as we walk away from the water. Around the corner, we are at the edge of a bustling village. There are tepees everywhere, with poles sticking out of the top. Dogs lie on the ground, children play together, shouting, and women bend over fires or in front of mats, weaving baskets or ropes. Everyone seems busy.

We are far enough from the falls now that we don’t need to shout. A group of girls passes us by, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. Kaya says there’s so many bands at Celilo Falls, so if people don’t speak the same language, they can use a form of sign language to communicate. It’s called throwing words.

I know where Celilo Falls is in modern day. Or, where it was. The guide at Dalles Dam said the government built the dam in the 1950s, and the falls flooded and disappeared. But when I look around now, there’s no lake, no highway, and no dam. I must’ve gone back in time much further than the 1950s!

Kaya takes me to see two women, who are kneeling outside the entrance to a tepee. A dog lies on his side, sleeping, and I see two little boys asleep in the tepee. Kaya greets the dog when he gets up to see her. Kaya says his name is Long Legs. Clearly, Kaya loves dogs.

The younger of the two kneeling women plucks hot stones from the fire and drops them in a basket of water, followed up by a piece of fish. She’s cooking the fish! Kaya introduces me to the older woman, and says I’ve been injured. The woman, Kautsa, has a net of wrinkles on her face with gray braids. But her back is as straight as a young woman’s. Kautsa examines my head, and says I took quite a tumble. It’s a good thing Kaya was there; Nimíipuu always look out for one another. The other woman, who Kaya calls Eetsa, says I am welcome with them, and Kaya leads me inside.