References (By Ramisha)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_Catholic

http://www.virtualmuseum.ca/Exhibitions/Batoche/docs/proof_en_metis_food_diet.pdf

http://www.metismuseum.ca/media/document.php/00724.pdf

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Log_cabin#Traditional_log_buildings_in_North_America

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catholicism#History_of_use_of_Catholic_Church

http://www.thefreelibrary.com/Red+sash+speaks%3A+Metis+rights.-a030163410

http://www.metisresourcecentre.mb.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=12:traditional-metis-foods&catid=1:history&Itemid=2

Book: Canada Revisited 8

Life Of A Metis Woman: Part 2 (By Ramisha)

It is a Sunday morning and everyone in my family is awake. The birch log cabin's windows were rattling because of the strong wind.We are getting dressed for  the Sunday church mass. My husband dresses my daughter in a woolen dress and a heavy shawl to keep her warm. Since i am ready for the mass, i am making my family breakfast. I made tourtière (a pork based meat pie) to give us energy throughout the day. My husband comes from our room dressed in a capote (wool coat with hood) that i embroidered myself, a red beaded bag, a tam, and moccasins i gave to him for his birthday. After eating breakfast, we make our way to the church in the cold.
We enter the church, and say hello to all our catholic friends. Our family goes to our usual seats, and as usual, my daughter is itching to leave. I sigh and make her sit on my lap to hold her down. The preacher come to the front and reads to us from the bible, which speaks of what is right and what is wrong. I enjoy being Catholic instead of a Protestent, because we are more strict about our religion and we have faith. That would be good for me and my daughter. The preacher is done and we all pray to the lord. He then dismisses us and we go do our jobs.
Because i did all my pemmican duties in the summer, i can take a break and stay home to teach my daughter about our ancestors ways. It is quite difficult because she is always running around but i treated her with some delicious berries i picked. While i was teaching my daughter, my husband was making his way to a trading post as a company clerk. He normally farms, but because of the winter he can't do all the work in the cold. He always switches jobs due to the seasons to make it easier for him.
My daughter wants to go to the trading post where her father is so i took her there. I brought a couple of berries, dresses, and furs that we don't need. We arrive at the trading post with a warm welcome from my husband. He is happy to see my daughter and I because his job is boring. i trade the berries for some clothing supplies such as beads and fabrics, and i sell the dresses and furs for food because we are runnning low. We say our good byes to my husband and head home to make a hearty dinner.
Because of the high increase of ood, i make a feast to lighten this cold dark day. I make La Gallete (fry bread) with La Rubaboo (Metis soup) and pemmican, and for dessert Poutine Au Sac (steamed pudding).
My husband comes home with a smile on his face bringing all sorts goods he recieved from a clean up in the trading post. His smile broadens when he sees the feast i prepared for him. With everyone happy we all sat down and ate the deliciouse feast that i prepared.

-Anna

Diary entry of a male Metis (written by Max)

Hello, it is a good day today especially coming back from the buffalo hunt.  I don’t need to hunt today because of all the buffalo I hunted the past few days. My family and I are going to go on the grassland of the shore of the red river. We are going to take all the buffalo skin, that we got with it we are going to make clothing, for us and so I can go and trade for more utilities.

It is the evening and it is cold, but I am really happy about what this British trader gave me for the fur i got at the buffalo hunt, he gave me medicine. That is really helpful because my family and I does not have very good health resources. I must go now to get to church, and pray as I am thankful for the successful hunt.  Bye for now.

                                                                                                                                                                                

 Adoni

References (Risa)

http://www.metisnation.ca/who/index.html

http://www.wisegeek.com/who-are-the-metis-people.htm 

http://www.mcsbc.org/main/page_metis_food.html

http://www.albertasource.ca/metis/eng/culture_lifeways/lifestyles_food.htm

http://www.telusplanet.net/public/dgarneau/metis.htm

http://www.metisfamilyservices.com/metis-history

http://www.metis.ca/.../metis.../The%20history%20of%20the%20Metis%20People - 

http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/index.cfm?PgNm...

http://www.turtle-island.com/native/the-ojibway-story/metis.htm

http://firstpeoplesofcanada.com/fp_metis/fp_metis3.htm

http://www.mcsbc.org/main/page_metis_food.html

Canada Revisited Book Pg 60-63  

Diary entry of a male Metis (written by Max)

Hello, my name is Adoni. I live near the Red River located in the province of Manitoba. It is 1852, on a fresh crisp spring day, which is perfect weather for my travels.  I am venturing out along the Red River in search for lots of buffalo for trade and most importantly for my family to eat. The river stretches far and wide within Canada and United States, and my travels may take days as I move across the terrain by foot and horseback.  I mainly go in search for buffalo, but often hunt moose, fish, chicken, and also elk for more food supplies. Now that I am involved with the fur trade; I will also be able to feed my family and use the skin and fur for trade which will help us in other ways.  Usually one buffalo can feed my family and  we can make clothing with the fur and other products. The fur trade has given my family and me more prosperity. 

It is evening now, and I must continue my preparations for the annual buffalo hunt tomorrow. I need to get my rifle ready as this is a big hunting expedition.  I load up my horse with a small amount of supplies, as I will need to travel as light as possible to keep up with the group.  I head off to sleep to get as much rest for the long journey ahead.

Diary entry of a male aboriginal: Part 2 (Written by Risa)

March 22, 1853, 

    The good, old spring has once again blossomed upon our camp. Meat and corn is stacked in the center of the camp, feeding every member. Last night just before the elders went to sleep, the camp and us families decided to began the annual buffalo hunt for the year, starting today. When I arouse today bleary-eyed at daybreak, I noticed from the corner of our dormer that dawn was breaking and that the usual blue sky was a combination of deep red and brillant pink with bright light emitting from the clouds that draped the sky. It was an excellent sight, except that my wife and my two daughters couldn't see it because they had left with mother early to get prepared for the buffalo hunt.

    

     I got all set for the buffalo hunt, first wiping and cleaning my rifle, making sure it seemed furnished, and feeding and decorating my stallion Bako, who with the hardship of both of us had hunted the most buffalos  and won the annual buffalo tournament at the previous year's buffalo hunt. After I completed my regular chores for Bako I dressed myself up, wearing my red-beaded buffalo shirt and deer skin pants that wore a fancy look along with my blue shall and beaded cocked hat. I then hauled myself onto Bako, and rode all the way to the depth of the grassland (buffalo grazing land) where the buffalo hunt was taking place.   

    

     Along the route I met up with Danral, one of  the skilled young hunters in the camp (but definitely not better than me!). He asked me how I was and I said fine with kindly glance and a gentle smile, nudging Bako on the mane, slientily urging him to go faster so I could dump this young man's company off. The next minute he inquires about my daughter Flema, that he heard that she had a bad cold and was tremendously upset. Now! imagine that! Even I didn't care about Flema's cold and I'm her FATHER and this lad, a third person is asking anxiously about my family? 

    

    When I reached the grassland I met up with my wife and daughter Shara, they were packing up knives and accessories for the big hunt in their cart and said that they were certain that I was about to win the tournament. I was very glad for their encouraging confidence and felt very pleasant deep within. On the start of the tournament every men were lined up with their horses in a straight line with our families watching us from inside the carts. The chief of the hunt (elected 'buffalo hunt council') announced the hunt to begin.            

    

    Every men (including me) hopped on our horses and loaded up our rifles with our buffalo runners (horses) stampeding against the large group of grazing buffalos, frightening them. As the crowd of buffalos ran I shot two buffalos on the head by my loaded-gun, gaining cheers from my family. Then it occurred when Bako suddenly slowed down while the other horses tugged and pulled on the reins, yearning to race upon to the group of grazing buffalos. For once in my entire buffalo tournament I thought I might lose, the pleasant feeling deep inside me had vanished. This was the hesitating instant that I thought I might  run away deep in the woods when abruptly, spotting a lone buffalo, Bako then leaped so high and swift that I almost fell off, unseating myself while he charged at the animal. I quickly raised my rifle and shot the buffalo dead, amazed at Bako's sudden act.

    

    Evening finally arrived and every family in the camp on the grassland were busy on their carts, skinnning and butchering up the meat and bones which we could use to make new clothing, food and other accessories and needs. I had won the tournamant fair and square with gleaming pride and honour when the chief handed me the reward, a metal trophy.               
 
    When time came to leave, my family and I packed up satisfied with new things except that there was no sign of my daughter Flema. I asked my wife where Flema was and she answered with a shrug. I looked around the grazing field and found Flema at last, but with a disappointing sight: Flema was embracing Danral, my stomach churned and I was stunned. Supra, my wife then broke in my sickening thoughts and questioned me if I had found Flema. I pointed towards the couple and with a sudden, unexpected grin I said :''It's time our daughter was married, don't you think?.'' 

   As you see, even I  didn't knew I would say this, but it had came out rightfully for the prosperity of our kids. Anyway, it is getting pretty dark and my wife insists I must sleep and I think I likely must too. With Faith and Goodness,                                                                                         
                                                                                                                               Marcel Cardinal

Life Of A Metis Woman: Part 1 (By Ramisha)

It is Monday, early in the morning and I am dreadfully tired and can't go back to sleep. Today is the day I am sending my 8 year old son to Great Britain, to become educated and have a successful career. I can't bare to part with him, but I know I have to be strong and help my family. I get up and change into my cotton dress because of the warm weather. I braided my hair and put on my moccasins which are made out of dear skins. I slowly emerged from my teepee which is a cone like tent, that were made from dear or buffalo hides that stretched over a frame of poles. Once outside, I inhaled the crisp morning air, and went to the lake to clean my face.

Everyone is finally awake in the village. My husband, Jacques Bellamy, a french man, got my son dressed into a shirt we got from the trading post, a coat made from buffalo robes that I decorated with colourful beads, a sash pouch that belonged to my father, moccasins my mother made for him, and a tam ( a cap). I packed some clothes for him and supplied him food for the journey. My son is going with another group of boys that were going by cart to the docks. In tears, my husband, daughter, and I say our final good byes and wish our son a safe trip.

After the sad departure, my husband and I go to work. I send my 6 year old daughter to my neighboor, an elderly woman, who comes from the same Nation as me, the Siksika. She teaches my daughter about our ancestors ways of living. After dropping my daughter off, I head to the work place for women. There, me and many other women make pemmican for the fur trade companies, which is the main job for  Metis women. While I work on making pemmican, my husband is farming. We, like many other Metis farmers, own a 3 km strip of land and a 100-metre frontage on the river which makes water transportations easier. My husband grew barley, potatoes, onions, and prairie turnips for the trading post and for our family. Tomorrow, my husband and I will join the group of men and women that are going to the annual buffalo hunt, where the men would chase and kill buffalo herds for their meat and other usefull items such as their hides, hairs, and more. The woman would take the dead buffalo and make use of all their parts. This is one of the most important event to our everyday lives.We try not to waste any parts of the buffalo.

It is night time, and I invited some families over for dinner. I am cooking my family and friends a dinner of boulettes ( meatballs) with cooked vegetables and rice. We all went outside to enjoy the warm summer night and ate dinner pleasantly. During dinner, my husband and the other men were laughing, having fun and were discussing the hunt. The women and I are talking about our children and our homelands. After dinner, My family and my guests go to the center of the village, where most of the entertainment was held. People from other teepees started to come outside and join us.The children were running around playing tag and hide and go seek, common games to play outside. The rest of the adults gathered around, some singing a folk song, " La Rose Blanche", my husband and his friends playing the fiddle, and the rest were dancing gleefully. Afterwards, all the husbands put the children to sleep, and came back for storytelling. The village elders came up and told us funny, and adventerous stories that made you dream and wonder about the past. Exhausted after a long day of work and fun, everyone returns to their teepees to get a good nights sleep. My husband and I change into our night clothes and fall fast asleep in each others arms.

-Anna

A page for the text to help you out

Diary Entry of an Metis Aboriginal (Written by Risa)

February 21, 1853,

    Morning has arisen, I have woke drowsily to the sound of the screaming rooster and got straight to work. Draped in my capote, my beaded bag in my clasp and my bright red sash (cultural clothing) worn around my neck, I stepped out of our log cabin, a small house built from logs that has a rusty dormer, small living room and three bedrooms which my wife and  my children snooze in and huddle together during the frost, chilly winter. As a loyal hunter to a fur-trading company, I must feed my family with proper food and settlements by hunting animals for trading at the fur trade posts for various goods  and also for food. At an annual buffalo hunt, we men rode horses while our families travelled in carts waiting as we men hunted from two to five buffalos using guns on each run. At the end of the hunt, boisterous parties were held, celebrating a successful hunt. The spring buffalo hunt was the most important economic and social event on the lives of the us Métis families at Red River. It is a business venture, undertaken and organized with military precision for us. Dried buffalo meat mixed with fat and wild berries known as pemmican is a valuable commodity sold by us Metis men to the fur trade companies.
    

    Besides that, I depend on hunting to balance on lifestyle. Before going out, I called to my wife Supra, saying  that I am leaving to hunt. As a women, my wife Supra must look after the spiritual needs / knowledge of the family, including cooking and taking care of our two girls. As a father, she keeps convincing me that it was time that our daughters were wed to one of my brother's sons and was starting a new family. But I do not think that is necessary, after all my daughters are only fifteen, nearing sixteen this year, they are childish and have the behaviour of a child, how could I send them off to different families, it will be like commiting a blunder to those dear kids.
    

    Since today is Tuesday, I had no need to wake up early and attend the catholic mass happening near the church of mother Mary which is just over by two kilometers from our camp. As part of our catholic culture and our contribution to the growth of it, we Metis families have to attend the prayer mass every Sunday and Saturday. Continuing on my way, I encountered my group of ten men awaiting me (dizaines) to begin our hunting as a group, first going into deep in the woodland. As a Metis group, hunting was divided into ten groups of ten men, each group having a leader. Out of the ten leaders a captain was chose to order the hunting parties while we ten captains chose ten soldiers who assisted us with order and discipline. On the route, I spotted a deer and shot it with my rifle, hauling it with us to the depth of the woodland. Together we hunted a bison, (me as the captain) and brought it to the camp, each of us dividing a share of the meat while our wives and children completed drying meat and making pemmican, which they did while we men went to work.
    

     Since fur-trading at the posts happens once a week as a large group, I go in to our log cabin and dine on the lunch of  "Rubaboo and Bannock" (Bologni and Hamburger Soup) my wife prepared for me and get ready to drop my daughters off at the Catholic residential school nearby our camp, which my daughters are taught how to live and spend more time in religious instructions and prayers. As evening came, I was over and done with assisting my wife in skinning, butchering, carrying back carcasses of hunted meat to camp, and then cooking the kill. I then again picked up my daughters from school, and all of us ate our dinner, of tourtière (a pork-based meat pie) and boulettes (meatballs) enjoying it pleasantly.
    

     Night arrived and the sun hid behind the hills, sinking beneath the waters. The elders, and us captains met in firelight, to discuss how the hunt went and plan how it would go for the following day. When Midnight approached, we all said goodnight to each other, with me tiptoeing back to our home to catch enough sleep for strength the next day. We, as a Metis community relied on it as a non-political government.
                                                                                                Diary of  Marcel Cardinal