Indian women are wonderful at multi tasking, thinking ahead, strategizing, planning, and getting shit done. That is just how it is. They have to be like that or what sit back and wait for someone else to do it, but who? A man?
No because they braid their man’s hair before he goes and “conquers” his world, she just makes sure his beaded bolo tie matches his Western shirt.
If not they are making sure all their little duckies are in a row, set for the day. Make sure they know where all their kids are. Make sure they know their every move but they have to make sure of this all stealth like and ninja like if they are older kids. They don’t want them to know, their mom knows where they are.
They make sure their house is ok, dog fed, cat fed and some Indian women even feed squirrels and birds and other animals that hang out, not because they are trying to be Pocahontas in a Disney film, but because that is their nature to feed and make sure no creature around them are hungry.
When they start naming those creatures though….
Yes, our Indian women are the stuff legends re made of, they truly embody the phrase a women’s work is never done. They take on the world outside their homes with a passion, standing up for the rights of children, our peoples lives, our water, our precious Grandmother Earth and all the creatures they feed. The will march, protest, get arrested, make bail and be right out there protesting again, circulating petitions, and making change
And the next day they will be organizing graduation dinners cooking for hundreds, making bread for a funeral, helping a friend with a giveaway, beading the background beadwork on a pair of leggings. All the while, laughing and ordering people around while slapping frybread dough between her hands and thanking someone for complimenting her beaded earrings.
After a feed she can organize her gathering of the leftover food with the commandment and precision of an Army general. It takes her less than five minutes to have it wrapped up and ready to go home for her family. As she gives hugs all the way out the door and all you hear between all the aunties is AAAAYE! and laughter.
So when an Indian woman wants to have her recreation time and relax, for the love of God you let her. Because what is relaxing to her is still what legends are made of. If she wants you to drive her, you don’t bitch, you just drive.
Because all of us Indian women have one thing in common that is as inter-tribal as the Grand Entry at Gathering of Nations. We are sisters connected this way.
We love yard sales.
We love yard sales, garages sales, rummage sales, and second hand thrift stores. As the car slows to a stop in front of a yard sale you will already see a foot out the door. If there are more than one Indian woman in the car and you happen to be lucky enough to take maybe a grandmother and mother and sisters, don’t worry about the time. Because Indian women who have bad backs, canes, etc. who usually walk slow….all those ailments go away when spring rolls around and the appearance of neon garage sale signs began popping up.
They will scream at you about directions, pointing with lips which way to drive, argue with each other, race each other to the sale, race another carload of Indian women to the next sale, and bitch about them in the car. “Did you see how mad they were because we got to that one first.” They will tell you to stick to the rich side of town but get mad at the prices. “Eeee when they’re that rich, why they gotta sell that high, cripes!”
Be careful though, many an Indian woman will misread signals and take you to a birthday party because of the balloons tied outside the house or have you rummaging in someone’s garage when they were only cleaning it out. Make sure there is a sign.
Just remember, this is relaxing to them, you may get a new shirt, and that VCR and two boxes of VHS tapes she got for ten bucks will come in handy.
Yes, Indian women are the stuff legends are made of.
Now, haul all the stuff in the house!