THE NATIVE AMERICAN SWEAT LODGE
In the heat and darkness, you can come to know your Self:
An Experience with the Native American Sweat Lodge.
by Christopher Nyerges

It was to be my very first traditional Dakota sweat, and I was eagerly anticipating the experience. I'd done sweats dozens of times but they were mostly what I'd call secular or health sweats. I'd do them in the small lodge I'd set up in my Los Angeles backyard, or in the temporary sweat lodges I had constructed in the Angeles National Forest and in the Rocky Mountains.

This was different.

I was in Columbus, Ohio for a National Home Preparedness Expo and, fortuitously, my booth was near two men who made Native American crafts. I'd admired their tipi, their weapons, and their jewelry, and eventually they invited me to their weekly sweat, which would be the following night. I quickly accepted.
Saturday night when the Expo was over, I drove with HuntsInRain in his small pickup truck in a pounding rainstorm. After 30 minutes or so, and a drive down a long country road in the dark, we got to the house and removed our clothes. In trunks, I followed HuntsInRain and Roger down a dark dirt path to the sweat location. I could see the big fire as we approached -- it was a huge fire pit, maybe five feet in diameter, and on either side was a lodge, one for the men and one for the women.

The fireman/doorman and assistant to the lodge leader informed us that we had to wait just a bit since a prayer had started inside. We could hear the women singing behind us in the lodge opposite the fire. We stood several feet from the fire, just outside the ring that circled the big fire, near the entry to the men's lodge, waiting. The rain came down hard and it was cold. It got even colder when a wind picked up and it felt downright frigid as Roger, HuntsInRain, and I awaited entry, standing there in nothing but our shorts.

I began to wonder what I was doing, standing nearly naked in the rain, in the dark, in the cold, looking at the storm. It seemed that we stood there for a very long time.

Something was spoken in Dakota just beyond my earshot, and then Roger and HuntsInRain called me over to go in. I crawled through the flap into near-darkness and unseen hands helped to guide me to an empty spot. Roger and HuntsInRain followed.

The lodge was perhaps four and a half feet high and about 12 or 13 feet in diameter. Objects hung from the rafters … prayer ties and cloth materials in the four direction colors. There were perhaps 12 men in the lodge. The leader continued with the ceremony by greeting me and the other guest for the night. He asked me about myself and my background, and when I said I was from Los Angeles, someone shouted from the darkness,
"Welcome to America!" We all laughed.
Then the leader described what we were about to do. Once new grandfathers were brought in, the red hot rocks that were cooking in the big fire, we'd sing songs of prayers and thanks, and then we'd go around the circle and each man would say a prayer in his own way. Then, more "grandfathers" would be brought in, and more singing.

The assistant brought in red hot grandfathers on his long handled pitchfork, and men inside, using deer antlers, rolled them into their proper positions in the middle area. The leader tapped the grandfathers that marked the four cardinal points, and sprinkled some herbs over the hot rocks … I believe it was cedar.
Then the flap was closed, and the leader said some prayers in Dakota and tossed some water on the grandfathers. He began a Dakota song, prefacing it with an explanation of what the words meant. Everyone followed along as best they could, some better than others. Some, like me, did their best to just keep up. It was loud, thundering, powerful singing, and the leader would toss water upon the grandfathers and they would hiss loudly and the lodge would become hotter and steamier.

Then the leader began the prayer round, asking Wakan Tanka for strength and to heal certain friends and relatives in need. Each man took his turn, each saying his own prayer in his own way. Many asked for a prayer to a friend or relative who was sick, others asked for strength to deal with the pain of divorce or wayward children. The other men … the brothers … in the lodge would acknowledge each prayer with "ah-ho" or some variation. Some men even asked not for their problems to be taken away but that they gain the strength to find the right solutions to the problems they faced. One man sobbed as he spoke his heartfelt prayer. In the black darkness, we felt each other's prayers and there was no stigma or disgrace in such openness.

Then a pipe was passed. Each man puffed on it … it was filled with tobacco … said "Mitauke-oyasin" (all my relations) and passed it to the next man. From what I could feel in the darkness … I never actually saw the pipe … it had a traditional chanupa design, probably made from catlinite, and it had a long stem at least two feet long, probably made from elder or ash.

By this time, I was extremely hot, dripping in sweat, and it was getting difficult to breathe. I felt a little light-headed, and I didn't want to faint. So I did as I've done before, and leaned back and put my head to the ground to the outer edge of the lodge where the air is cooler and where you might have a hint of a hope for some oxygen to sneak through. I found such a tiny crevice, and I breathed deep and felt better.

The lodge flap was opened and new grandfathers were brought in and put into place with the antlers. Cedar was sprinkled on some, and the flap was closed. The heat intensified once again. Then another round of singing began, and the leader would occasionally toss water on the grandfathers, causing much hissing and release of the intense heat. In the occasional pauses, we could hear the women singing in their lodge. I lost track of time after awhile though by the time we got out, it was less than two hours total.

When we finally departed the lodge, it was cool and comfortable outside. The rain had stopped and it didn't seem nearly as cold as it was when we started. We departed the lodge in a clockwise motion, and each of us would stand in a line as we came out, and shake hands and hug those that followed. It was great fellowship, and we then dressed and walked up in the dark to the house where we shared discussion and a potluck.

For those who are able, I strongly recommend that you seek out those who conduct traditional sweats, and participate in a few. For myself, the sweat has been a key to both physical and mental health. I look forward to it, and I tell others about it.
What follows is the description for constructing your own backyard sweat lodge.

Nyerges is the editor of Wilderness Way magazine, and co-author of Extreme Simplicity and other books. He has led field trips for the past 32 years. For more information, contact him at Box 41834, Eagle Rock, CA 90041, or on-line at ChristopherNyerges.com or self-reliance.net
[See PART 2 next issue on "How To Construct A Sweat Lodge"]