I lay in my sleeping bag smiling, short on sleep but happy to be there.
Every night we powwow — nations offering songs of thanks, resilience, and grief that we have to fight this pipeline at all.
I’ve been on the road for three days in Greenpeace’s Without strong cell reception, it’s been hard to know what to expect when I arrive, so I’ve spent long days anxiously trying to imagine what it will be like at camp.
I am struck by how unique this moment is — to be training with members of so many nations, with so many relatives from so many different places, and with so many people who have never before taken action on their principles in this way. Sometimes, late into the night, you can hear the cries welcoming the arriving nations.After a brief chat with some helpful camp security, we begin pulling our 13-ton truck down the avenue of flags representing the Indigenous nations who have lent their support.I will spend the next week working with the hundreds of people who have pledged to peacefully and prayerfully stop the Dakota Access Pipeline.I wander back to my camp relatively early but the voices -- the prayers -- fill the night and begin early in the morning, greeting the sun as it rises.
Peter Dakota Molof spent a week supporting water protectors at resistance camps set up along Lake Oahe — this is what he saw.[_descriptive_paragraph] =As I turn off the two-lane highway that courses through the Standing Rock Indian Reservation into Oceti Sakowin Camp (technically an overflow camp from the original Camp of the Sacred Stones that formed in April of this year), I am bursting with feelings.