Yesterday, my little one and my better half finally wore me down. We compromised on a stroll downtown, with a strict “window shopping only” rule (our monthly budget is currently on a diet).
Eventually, my middle aged legs gave out and my kid reached peak boredom. We parked ourselves on a bench while the lady of the house went off to inspect shop windows from a safe, wallet-friendly distance.
An older gentleman sat down next to us. We exchanged smiles, and after a moment, he leaned forward, pointed at the Nike store, and asked,
“What do they sell there?”
I did my best seated jogging motion and said,
“Sports clothes!”
That sparked a chat. He told me he was from the Northwest Territories. He looked Aboriginal, actually, the first Aboriginal person I’d ever spoken with, so I was genuinely intrigued. I asked him how city life compared to the North.
He laughed,
“Oh, I can’t handle it here. Too many people.”
As he stood up to leave, we fist-bumped. Casually, like he was commenting on the weather, he dropped,
“You know, I’m one of the Tribal Chiefs.”
It didn’t strike me much at that time. I took some mental note and went about doing my day strolls and window shopping.
when I got home, I did some digging ( dene + his name ). Turns out, my bench-buddy was none other than François Paulette[https://www.ichr.ca/profile/francois-paulette/ ] legendary Dene Chief, treaty activist, and environmental warrior. And there I was, miming running shoes to him like a game of charades.
Proof that even a random stranger sitting on a bench can brush shoulders with esteemed leaders. Sometimes, the universe just parks them on a mall bench next to a wannabe dad.
Oh, and he did mentioned he speaks Dene, a language with only about 20,000 speakers left.
I guess it is time for me to learn at least five words in honor of the chief who made my day.
Máhsı cho