Drunken conversations are sometimes amusing, sometimes laughable and often time irritating but here I stood, while listening to some half Danish, half Native American have a conversation with an American guy, who proceeded to tell him that he thought all Native Americans were drunks. Of course then he had the misfortune of asking my opinion, to which I replied: ‘Yes they are, but that’s because the Americans fucked them over’. Saying this in a loud voice I found, not only gets attention but also encourages silence amongst the crowds. I would have been happy to be proved wrong but not a single person came forward to convince me otherwise. I’m happy to know at least some people, are somewhat guilty for the past of this fine land.
That’s it for Missouri, which despite a couple of people telling me there’s nothing worthwhile in the Midwest, dealt me a couple of surprises and some very good memories.
Cahokia mounds ended up being less than I expected initially. To get a better idea of these Native American made half-pyramids of earth, you really need to get to the top of the main attraction, which is ‘Monks Mound’. I was a little put off by the ominous sign, that warns of lightening possibly hitting the top of a mound during storms but ambled on anyway (despite the looming return of the earlier storm).
I think it doesn’t help for these kinds of things, when the markers point out ‘unfortunately, there are no ruins left, but we re-posted wood in the darker areas in the ground’. I was more impressed when I got to the top of Monk’s and looking down could see the real discoloured ground, that held 1000 years of history in it. One of the great things about the mound is that the breeze on the top is so refreshing, the surrounding fields are just perfectly green and silky and the area that is covered by all the mounds when you get to see them from a height is truly impressive.