This summer, we started our grandson on his travels through the United States, lessons on geography, history, the beauty and the diversity of our nation, beginning with our country’s southwestern, native roots: New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and Texas, those that are arguably the most impressive, as the landscape is so very different than anything he’s seen on the east coast. Like his grandmother says, “It’s like landing on another planet!” For me, I was returning home to where I’m from: “the Land of Enchantment”, and I was able to share my friendly and beautiful state with my family. For our daughter, India reconnected with the roots of her heritage, which became apparent as soon as she stepped into the realm of her people.
After arriving in Albuquerque, we went to the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center where the dancers from Acoma entertained us. Called the “Gateway”, a small but informative museum of exhibits introduces visitors to the nineteen pueblos of New Mexico. On our way to the next destination, Felix had already noticed the following differences: “no trees, no clouds, lots of sand, lots of Indians.” At Petroglyph National Park, he became acclimated with the climate. Visitors must remain on the trails due to the destruction and theft of petroglyphs protected now by federal law, and the markings, drawings and inscriptions on huge boulders and lava rocks, left by the first people of Albuquerque, are easy to miss. So after walking almost a mile through the hot sand with no shade at a hundred degrees, we finally came across some, and were more than satisfied with our find. Felix, especially, was not eager to look for more. The City of Albuquerque has changed a lot – it’s grown! — since I left 30 years ago, and so has Old Town, but San Felipe de Neri Church is still at the heart of the plaza where musicians still entertain visitors on summer nights, and Albuquerque is still a vibrant and colorful blend of diverse cultures.
Felix noticed another enormous difference: enormous mountain ranges, Sandias and the Sangre de Cristos, on the way to our next destination, Chimayo, a Catholic Church built over 400 years ago on grounds that were sacred to the native people. Legend has it that a cross discovered in the dirt, and repeatedly brought to another Church, kept mysteriously returning until the Spanish decided to simply construct a Church on the site of the special soil for which it is now famous. Today people leave their crutches behind and leave with small containers of the healing soil, and Mass is held in front of the exquisitely carved altar.
Another hour north and we’re in Taos. It’s easy to see why it’s such a popular place. The scenery, the climate, the charming plaza filled with eclectic shops, and the skiing. We are here to visit Taos Pueblo, a UNESCO World Heritage Site which is over 1000 years old and remains occupied by members of the original families. One can purchase Native art, crafts, jewelry and pottery in some of the homes, as well as oven bread, baked daily in outdoor kilns. The Red Willow People are named for the creek which is still used, as the pueblos have neither running water nor electricity. The blue doors of the multi-family adobe buildings are meant to symbolize the southwest, protect against evil spirits, and repel insects. Our Native guide explained all of this, and the church ruins, reminding us that the first American Revolution was in New Mexico in 1680, when Pope’ united the Pueblos who revolted against the violence and persecution imposed by a European conqueror, successfully driving them from the region, not for long, but long enough for the Native people to reclaim and re-establish their own “ancient traditions, languages and homelands to this day.”
The next morning we embarked on one of our longest rides, to Chaco Culture. Long drives through large states, but that’s an important part of it — the beauty along the way. On our journey through ever-changing landscapes, Felix first saw the Rocky Mountains and the Rio Grande, not a big river, but a nurturing, life-giving one to all who live on its banks. The majority of the pueblos in New Mexico are located along the Rio Grande.
Located in Navajo land in New Mexico’s northwest, or “the middle of nowhere”, and driving on 20 miles of rough roads, half of which is washboard, Chaco is not easy to get to, but as a result, visitors have the place almost to themselves. The only life we saw along the way — prairie dogs, jack rabbits, and ravens. Chaco Culture, our second World Heritage Site, abandoned Pre-Colombian villages of granaries, kivas, home and ceremonial sites dating back to 850 A. D., line the nine-mile loop in the park. It is said at one time Chaco housed up to 10,000 inhabitants. They are all gone, and one marvels in amazement at the structures that remain. Visitors walk into the villages, touch the stones, listen to the wind, the crows and ravens who live there now. Felix and I found artifacts in one village — pottery shards, obsidian and an arrow head, and respecting the spirit, we left them in the desert where they belong.
People always ask – where are the ancient ones who lived here? Where are the Anasazi? What happened to them? Why did they disappear? The response now — at Taos, at Chaco, at Mesa Verde, at the Grand Canyon — we are still here. We are the Pueblo, the Navajo, the Ute, the Apache nations, and any and all indigenous people who live in the southwestern region of the United States. We never left. We are the original people of this country, and we are still here. I’m grateful that my family can walk in the sacred land of our ancestors, grateful to share it with others.
Juan Arriola
…to be continued. Please share your summer travels with us; our readers enjoy learning of their neighbors’ different adventures.