Going Native in Ireland Part II

It's one thing to find a single product in a store that appropriates Native culture but to find an entire business...

Meet Apache Pizza!

Ireland's most popular Native American themed dine-in and carry-out pizza restaurant!

This popular pizza chain with over 40 locations throughout Ireland left me scratching my head just like the Irish Indian Chief Headdress.

Some of the menu highlights include:

• WIGWAMMER pizza  (cause nothing screams woodlands tribes like double decker pepperoni!)
• CAJUN APACHE pizza (I've never had shrimp gumbo with fry bread, have you?)
• HIAWATHA pizza (which apparently is how they spell Hawaiian in Ireland)
• BACON APACHE pizza (cause everything is better with bacon?)
• GERONIMO pizza (how timely of them)

Here is the full menu and a few screenshots:

(

And what themed restaurant is complete without over-the-top decoration (click on the images to enlarge)

 

(but mankind really had to pee and couldn't afford a slice!)

And if you can't make it to the restaurant, just order carryout!

PIZZA BOX (front)

PIZZA BOX (back) featuring:

TEN NATIVE AMERICAN COMMANDMENTS

They even sell licensed merchandise and other novelty gifts such as the Apache Novelty Arrow, Apache Fun Feathers, and Apache Feather Headdress.

"King of your tribe?, then prove it with a feather headress."

Someone care to explain to me what Native Americans and the Apache in particular have to do with pizza?

What's that, absolutely nothing.

Indeed, Native American culture is a pretty odd choice for a pizza chain in the emerald isle, but then again considering the cultural phenomenon that is the "Indian" I'm sadly not surprised by this.

This chain is the epitome of "drawing on Indians" because it is so completely detached from real Native culture and instead dives head first into the stereotypical soup of the "Indian".

It has all the best known elements: a chief head with war bonnet, Hiawatha, Geronimo, a special Indian connection to the natural and spiritual world (though I personally prefer my Native wisdom from tribal elders, not from the back of pizza boxes).

I'm assuming the founders of Apache Pizza were enchanted with the stereotypical Indian of American frontier lore and decided it would make a great memorable pizza mascot.  Thus was born "Big Chief" (he's named in one of the radio adverts) and Apache Pizza!

I was originally going to "go easy" on this company and simply decry it for its clear stereotypes of Native Americans but then I heard the radio adverts.

 Apache- Wife

Apache Pizza is officially racist.  How else can you describe such an ugly stereotype as the tonto-speaking gruff-voiced Indian named Big Chief who literally says HOW every other word?!!!

Stuff like this is supposed to be a thing of the past but I suppose when you take centuries of ugly stereotypes and then move across the ocean to a place far removed from real Native people, this stuff does happen.  Sad.


Outraged?

Let em know:

http://www.apache.ie/customer_feedback.htm


For more European examples check out:

Glastonbury "Indians"

The Dudesons: A Retrospective

Going Native in Ireland Part I


<>

Tales from Grand Portage: The Great Hall Spirits

During the summer of 2008, I worked at Grand Portage National Monument in the northeast corner of Minnesota on the shores of Lake Superior.  Located on the Grand Portage Chippewa reservation, the monument commemorates the historic fur trade and in particular the North West Company trading post that operated on the site for almost 25 years.  I served as a costumed interpreter, dressing like a historic voyageur and giving talks and tours about the history and culture of the area.

I learned many things during this time but the greatest lessons were not about history but real life.

The Great Hall

The showpiece of the reconstructed trading post is the Great Hall.  Built on the original foundations, it consists of a large central dining hall with four additional side rooms.  Historically, the North West Company partners would entertain guests, conduct business, and relax within the walls of this massive wooden structure.  Thousands of people, young and old, sick and healthy, native and European, passed through this very space.  They laughed, they cried, they danced, and they died.  Fortunes were made and the fates of many were sealed with the stroke of a pen or the grasp of a handshake- all within this very room.

Today, thousands of visitors stream through this magnificent building every summer.  Most learn a few historical facts and go along their merry way but on one innocuous morning, one woman experienced something beyond ordinary.

I go through my regular morning routine- open the side rooms, light a fire, stock brochures, and sit down in my chair to await the first visitors.  A few trickle in now and then.  A typical slow morning.

Two women are now standing in the doorway of the kitchen across the way, ready to walk the short distance across the wooden planks into the Great Hall.  I rise from my chair and slowly walk toward the middle, the thump of my buckled shoes echoing across the cavernous space with every step.

The first woman is middle aged and dressed like an average visitor to the monument- shorts and a top.  She takes three steps inside the Great Hall and stops dead in her tracks.  Before I can even get any words out she is already talking.

"Did you feel that?" She exclaims, "I feel like there is a presence in this room.  I feel like there are spirits in here."

The woman behind her steps in and stands still without saying anything.  I simply stare at them both not knowing how to react.

"I know my grandmother used to tell me that she was part Indian but...," her sentence trails off before she continues, "I don't feel comfortable in here, I have to leave."

The two women quickly depart.  Through the hazy panes of hand blown glass, I see two figures walking diligently toward the entry gate.  I haven't moved since they left, my mind processing the scene I just witnessed.  My mind is screaming out, "What on earth just happened?  Spirits in the Great Hall, please...  This lady must be crazy!"

The Great Hall by candlelight

I immediately have to tell someone.  Somebody has to corroborate my feelings.  With an empty Great Hall, I walk over to the kitchen where I find one of my co-workers.  I immediately start:

"The craziest thing just happened in the Great Hall.  This woman walks in and stops and is telling me that she can feel the presence of spirits.  She's telling me that her grandmother was part Indian and I just don't know what to make of all this.  Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

He looks taken aback and says, "No, that's real strange."  I am reassured that someone else thinks this is as weird as I do.

I walk back into the Great Hall and find another of my co-workers, one of the tribal maintenance staff, painting on the front porch.  I walk up to her and repeat my story, "So this crazy lady walks into the Great Hall and tells me she can feel spirits.  She says she's really uncomfortable and she might be part Indian and then she leaves without saying anything else."

My co-worker responds:

"Oh yeah, I have felt the spirits in the there too.  There are spirits all around here."

Now, I'm staring at my own co-worker not knowing what to say.  I respond with a quiet, "um okay" and head back inside.  I feel like a complete ass for having talked about the lady in such a dismissive manner and now my co-worker standing right in front of me completely agrees with her.

I spend the rest of the day reassessing the events that transpired.  It's a complete shock to my system.

To this day, I will never know what the first woman felt but my co-worker responded with such conviction and candor that I will never think about native spirituality the same way again.

Up until that point, native religion was something I read about in books.  It was a historical concept that I used to explain trading patterns and periods of warfare.  In my mind, the spirits were quaint beliefs from a time long gone.

I learned an important lesson that morning in Minnesota.  Native spirituality is alive and healthy today.  While I may not totally understand it or agree with it, I do need to respect it.

I have since had many more run-ins with living spirituality.  I listen, I learn, and I thank everyone for sharing what they do.  It may be a cliche but it is worth repeating: Never judge a book by its cover.  Especially when that book is another person and the pages within are filled with such powerful personal conviction.

Manido Giizhigance or Little Cedar Spirit Tree