Lousy Foreigner: A Memoir Book

The reason I enjoy reading Ohiyesa's books so much is his unique perspective, one that came from living in two different worlds, native and mainstream American. This book traces his life in the first world, growing up in a Sioux camp.

Most of his account is set in Canada where he went into exile after being separated from his father and siblings following the 1862 Dakota War. Before Indian Boyhood, I read Old Indian Days and my favourite story in that book was based on this event; it was interesting to find out that the author was more closely connected to it than I imagined. I guess I should have read Mr. Eastman's biography more closely (and perhaps I should be referring to him as Dr. Eastman instead).

As always, his writing is honest and his depiction of Sioux life without pretension, whether he talks of hunting or making sugar, feasts or evenings in the lodge with his grandmother and uncle. The latter comes across as a truly admirable human being, whether because of his skill as a hunter or his simple but honest opposition to slavery. While Dr. Eastman writes from a clearly Sioux perspective, he isn't really biased either as in his retelling of a Cree legend where the Sioux are the antagonists. I like that even though the philosophies here are meaningful and spiritual, they avoid cliched mysticism as if their spirituality exists only to offer solace to jaded modern readers. At the same time, these are ideas that you can appreciate learning from, like when Ohiyesa's uncle says, "I think we are really bravest when most calm and slow to action."

The book is also full of homely pleasures, like the hilarious story about Chadozee and the bear (especially the bit about the bear scowling at him :P) as well as the ones Smoky Day (whom I first met as a fictional character in Wigwam Evenings) tells. I love that in Sioux society, solitude is not necessarily a bad thing. As someone who enjoys the refreshing calmness of being alone and is often questioned about this supposedly strange habit, I am grateful for Ohiyesa's defence of it. This book also helped me understand many of the things Dr. Eastman talks about in The Soul of the Indian. On the other hand, the author's narration feels a little abrupt sometimes, especially when he shuffles between the first person and the third person.

Reading this book creates a strange sort of wistfulness. Ohiyesa never paints his life as some sort of New Age hippie paradise - Indian life back then was clearly difficult and not always simple. And yet, he makes it clear that it was a good life. The sheer freedom without avoiding a sense of duty, the luxury of solitude combined with the warmth of community living is something I wish still existed.