Passion and pride keep Hazel Gludo weaving

7845286134_ec50a93d95_oPhoto by ah zit, from Flickr

It’s early in the afternoon and the sun is feeling shy. The sky over Fort Langley is leaden and masked with clouds. The air is cool and the threat of rain looms over the little village.

Amid the grey, Hazel Gludo stands out. She sports a colourful 1800s period costume, with a long skirt that brushes the ground and a hand-woven cedar basket hat and necklace that she made herself. Gludo, a member of the Kwantlen First Nation, works as an interpreter at the Fort Langley National Historic Site. On top of her job educating the public about the role of First Nations in the fur trade, she has been practicing and teaching the art of cedar weaving for 16 years. To Gludo, teaching cedar weaving to the younger generation is just as important and fulfilling as her duties as an interpreter.

Just north of the highway, by the railway tracks, lies “The Fort.” The former Hudson’s Bay Company trading post has been hailed as the birthplace of British Columbia and serves to educate the public about the trading that took place between the company and the nearby First Nations. Stepping inside the fort is like stepping out of one era and into another.

Gludo has worked at the fort since August 2013, and her ties with the area run deep. The Kwantlen live in the area to the north on McMillan Island, in the middle of the Fraser River, and Gludo’s grandfather worked as a cook at the fort. Inside the fort, she displays some of her work. She wears her cedar weavings with pride, and as she explains the various uses, it becomes clear the cedar was and is of great importance to the First Nations and to the success of the trading post.

“The cedar tree is considered the tree of life, and it is for protection,” she says.

Gludo harvests her own cedar and she stresses the importance of preserving the trees and not causing unnecessary harm. Cedar is harvested in the early spring, when the trees are rich with sap. In order to ensure the longevity of the trees, she will take no more than two hand-widths of bark from a tree.

It is important to pick a tree that has a straight grain on the bark, she says, because the inside will be straight as well. Once she has her bark from the inner core of the tree, she dries it and makes sure it is not full of pitch. She soaks the bark in warm water and pounds it flat with her cedar tool (all of her tools are made from the inner core of the cedar tree, she notes). She cuts the bark into strips. Roots and berry juices can be used as dyes.

The cedar tree is considered the tree of life, and it is for protection. – Hazel Gludo

Cedar can be woven in a variety of ways to make hats, mats, bracelets and baskets. Gludo motions to the cape she is wearing. Historically, her cape would have been made from cedar woven with wooly dog fur. Inside the fort’s depot building, she displays baskets made of inner cedar and woven in patterns. The inner cedar is so thick and expertly woven that it can hold water without a leak.

First Nations relied heavily on cedar for their survival and their method of cedar harvesting was mostly the same. They held the bark over a fire to rid it of pitch and sticky sap that could make it hard to work with, and they stripped the bark with their hands instead of with tools. They traded cedar baskets and made cedar paddles, scoop nets and smelting nets. Cedar was crucial to their way of life.

Gludo exits the depot building and makes her way to the cooperage, where they demonstrate barrel-making and woodworking. She receives a warm welcome from her fellow interpreters, who gather around her. She is the oldest of the group and a respected figure. They laugh and chat, all decked out in their historical gear.

“Look,” she says, pointing to a canoe mounted on the wall, above the wheels and saws that line the back of the cooperage. “That is a dugout canoe and that is made from cedar. They made a fire in there.”

“A fire?” A nearby tourist turns to her, interested. Gludo nods.

“That was how the made their boats. They burnt inside so it would be easy to chip away.” The tourist looks impressed.

I’m proud of who I am. I was put down as a child but I was old enough to understand.

Gludo leads the way out of the cooperage and onto the grassy lawn of the fort. It looks like a mini village, and it is fortified with a tall wooden palisade surrounding the property.

A group of tourists from Minnesota watch one of Gludo’s co-workers craft a coat hook in the blacksmith’s corner. Gludo chats with them for a while. They are in Langley for a curling tournament. This leads to a discussion of the Olympics, and Gludo excitedly discusses how a member of her band brought home a silver medal in speed skating from Sochi.

“We’re very proud,” she says, smiling.

Ultimately, pride is why Gludo believes that teaching cedar weaving to First Nations children is so important.

“I’m proud of who I am. I was put down as a child but I was old enough to understand. I had younger brothers and sisters that went to residential school.”

I just like to show them what I can do. We can all learn our culture and I’ll carry on till I die.

Cedar weaving is an important part of First Nations culture, she says, one that has been lost over time. “It is a lost culture. It’s a thing that was taken away. The government, they didn’t want us to learn our culture. They wanted us to be like them. So we had to speak English and we had to forget about our culture. They made us feel not proud of our culture.”

Her work at the fort is more of a passion than a project, she says. She is retired, and after she lost her husband to cancer she needed something to do. She seems different when she talks about her culture, about the residential schools. She is passionate and proud.

“I just like to show them what I can do. We can all learn our culture and I’ll carry on till I die. I get to teach moms and families, and I’m able to tell the people here at the fort about how proud I am of my culture, and we all should be. That’s what I think motivates me. And I see my grandchildren, I see the children on the reserve that don’t get too much help, so I’m there and I work with out nation. I talk about culture and I show them what I do. I’m proud of it. And you need to always hold up and be proud of who you are,” Gludo says.

“I think it [cedar weaving] does make us feel proud. And you have to. I go to the schools and I stress on this because we all need to know our roots. Everybody needs to. We’re all the same, deep inside. You might be lighter skinned and I’m darker than you, but we’re all the same. There’s no difference, really. To be proud of who you are and know your roots. That’s important.”

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