Pick a Powwow : Despite Feud, Separate Chumash Festivals Bridge a Gap

It sounded like trouble: two Chumash Indian powwows in the same suburban town on the same weekend.

But oddly enough, it wasn’t, and the answer to whether this city can host two successful, simultaneous Native American festivals appears to be yes.

There is clearly no love lost between them, but Thousand Oaks’ two top Chumash leaders--Richard Angulo of the California Indian Council and Paul Varela of the Chumash Interpretive Center--stress that neither intended to undermine the other by scheduling competing powwows Saturday and today.

“I don’t care what anyone else is doing right now,” Varela said, watching as visitors began pouring into the Interpretive Center’s stunning oak grove. “I can’t worry about Richard Angulo. I’m trying to raise money for my organization.”

Across town, Angulo and his counterparts were saying the same thing. But they were still wondering why Varela and the rest of the Oakbrook Chumash suddenly decided to have a powwow on the same date as their 8-year-old event.

“I just hope it’s a coincidence,” said California Indian Council Chairman Reggie Pagaling, watching as a smaller, but significant, number of visitors made their way into the council’s event at the Borchard Community Center. “There are some Indian groups that are disheartened by this. It’s important that there are no divisions in the Indian community.”

Varela is the first to admit he dislikes Angulo, whose Chumash lineage he considers sketchy at best. But Varela claims he didn’t hear about Angulo’s powwow until it was too late to reschedule his event.

For his part, Angulo--who has threatened legal action against Varela for publicly questioning his Chumash authenticity--claims no hard feelings toward Varela. But Angulo--who says he is part Chumash and part Yaqui--questions why Varela continues to cast doubt on his Native American roots.

“This feud has been going on for a while,” said Alfred Valenzuela of the Oakbrook Chumash. “What can I say? I’ve known Richard [Angulo] for years. He’s said so many things, we just don’t know what to believe anymore. He used to be Yaqui, now he’s Chumash. So you tell me.”

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For the Native American dancers and vendors who flocked to Thousand Oaks for the weekend, the differences between the two groups hardly mattered. There were longtime friends at both powwows, and both were an opportunity to educate Southern Californians and keep Native American traditions alive.

“If I wasn’t dancing over here, I’d be dancing over there,” said Randy Folkes, clad in full regalia in preparation for the grand entry ceremony at the Interpretive Center. “There’s no hard feelings as far as most people are concerned.”

Folkes, a Chumash who teaches Native American studies at various Anaheim schools, said the pristine scenery of the Interpretive Center--the former site of a small Chumash settlement--was more noteworthy than any feud.

“This is a very sacred area here,” he said. “It’s beautiful to see the oak trees standing the way they used to. You just dance here because it’s in your heart. The drums call you, and you follow. You don’t think to much about it, or anything else.”

John Stiffarm, a drum teacher and member of the Gros Ventre tribe, travels to powwows all over California, selling handmade belts and percussion instruments in the style of northern Plains Indians. Some vendors abandoned Angulo’s festival in favor of Varela’s larger event, but Stiffarm said he never even considered jumping ship.

“In reality, they should come together,” he said. “That would be better for everyone. I think Richard has set a good example with his event. It’s different than theirs.”

Lloyd Thompson of Diamond Bar takes his family to powwows nearly every weekend to see old friends and try to bring Native Americans who have forsaken their roots back into the fold. He is an Oklahoma Cherokee, his wife, Sherry, is a Mississippi Choctaw, and their daughter, Angelica, has taken interest in both sides of her rich heritage.

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Thompson, who is black, is particularly saddened that many Latinos and African Americans have chosen not to stay in touch with the Indian side of their heritage.

“We’re here to get all our children back, because right now they’re scattered,” said Thompson, who chose to attend the Interpretive Center powwow. “Everybody’s too busy watching television Indians, and they don’t know what real Indians are about.”

Both Varela and Angulo expect to have several thousand visitors by the end of today--and many of them will be the same people. Admission to Angulo’s powwow is free. Varela charges $5 for adults and $3 for children 6 to 12.

Angulo’s powwow is at the Borchard Community Center at Borchard Road and Reino Road and Varela’s is at the Interpretive Center at 3290 Lang Ranch Parkway.

Julie Engleking of Thousand Oaks brought her twin 6-year-old sons, Mitch and Jaime, to Angulo’s powwow, and she planned on going to the competing festival as well.

Engleking, who is not Native American, was hoping to pass a love of the culture she had inherited from her mother to her sons. The colorful dances and the tasty fried bread already have the boys asking for more, she said.

“To me, it’s important to keep an open mind and learn about cultures that might otherwise be lost,” she said. “The more powwows the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

Bryan Brightcloud, a Chiricahua Apache who moved to Los Angeles from Arizona 12 years ago, agrees. But he hopes that in the future, the powwows take place on different dates.

“When I moved here, American Indian organizations would schedule these powwows at the same time on purpose, and it created a lot of hard feelings,” said Brightcloud, who emceed Angulo’s powwow. “I just hope we can put these things behind us.”