On Wednesday, Allison and I went on a Peace walk. It was a 5 mile walk with Native Americans and Buddhist monks and we did a tour of shellmounds. At each desecrated shellmound (which is about everyone of them) we would stop, make a circle, and talk about the shellmound and do a little moment of silence or prayer for the area. One Euro archaeologist of the early 1900 estimated that there were over 400 shellmounds in the Bay Area. Natives say there were far more than that. Whatever the case may be, it's some sad fucked up shit. To have your culture and history systematically erased from existence. The Ohlone are not federally recognized by the US gov't. So if they don't exist, then nothing bad is happening to them. Their gravesites are not recognized as gravesites. Could you imagine the US gov't digging up a cemetery, sticking the bones into garbage bags and telling the relatives to come and pick them up? Would never happen.

BTW, those Buddhist monks could fucking walk their asses off. They kept a pretty mean pace and I was on the short walk. They walked beating this prayer drum and one guy had a flag. The shellmound walks were about 17 miles a day and I was on the 4 mile day. Fuck man 17 miles is far. Shit 4 miles was far. Cause then we were 4 miles from where we started and we had to get back. So we walked back. But walking in a group makes walking a whole lot easier.

It was a good thing for me to do because I was aware of the purpose and it's something that forces me to reflect upon it. Walking as a meditation. Conscious zen walking. Walking with Ohlone to be witnesses to their lives and history. Walking for peace to try and change the zeitgeist. Now that I reflect it sounds much better. When I was doing it, my focus was oftentimes more on my own personal discomfort. My feet hurt and I was tired. I'm such a whiner.