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 come upon the edge of a bustling village, bigger than I imagined. 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. Smoke drifts up from cookfires, and somewhere nearby, someone is singing low and steady. Everyone seems busy, and I slow my steps to take it all in.

We are far enough from the falls now that we don’t need to shout to hear each other. A group of girls passes us by, chattering, but I don’t understand a word of what they’re saying. Kaya explains that there are 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 instead. 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 under the rising water. But when I look around now, there’s no lake, no highway, and no dam anywhere in sight. 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, deep in conversation. A dog lies on his side, sleeping in the sun, and I see two little boys asleep in the tepee behind him. 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 explains that 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 carefully, and remarks that 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.