View From Behind The Hogan

Speaking of senses, let me back up to the beginning of our journey. Before the trip, I had never been farther West than the state of Mississippi. Even though I had seen numerous pictures and film footage of the area, nothing could prepare me for the reality of the landscape that unfolded before me. I found that I didn't like it, and I had always thought I would. Forty-some hours on a bus probably had some influence on my opinion at that time, as well.

There was one grand highlight of the trip out, though. As we passed through Texas late in the afternoon, we saw dark threatening storm clouds ahead. Lightning began to strike on either side of the bus, gaining the attention of everyone on board. Soon, a transformation took place. We were headed due West, toward the rain; and we could see a huge fiery red sphere; the North star, sitting on the horizon behind the wall of storm clouds; and a sheer curtain of rain in between us. As the giant orb began to sink, the lightning strikes continued; and the ominous clouds took on brilliant shades of oranges and pinks, radiating out on either side into shades of purple. Awestruck, the entire busload rode on in enraptured silence, except for the unanimous "o-o-hs" and "a-a-hs" as the lightning bolts pierced the air.

Somewhere near Flagstaff, I briefly woke from my stupor to see a bright yellow sign saying, "Watch for Elk." It was the beginning of a chain of such incidents.

Finally meeting Matt, Anne, and Dovely was like putting on a well fitted glove, confirming my belief that each member on this list is like a finger on a glove, each having a unique aspect of themselves to contribute that fits perfectly together, making up the whole glove.

We were all anxious to get out on the land and soon took off. Once there, though, I suddenly felt an attack of shyness coming on. That quickly disappeared, though. Everyone was smiling and friendly and accepting of us. Officially, we were greeted by two teenage boys in a pickup as they were leaving, who, with big grins, told us to go ahead and park in the shade. There was no shade.

After we parked and got out, introductions began with Matt & Anne greeting old acquaintances with affectionate hugs. The rest of us were given warm, gentle handshakes by all. The grandmothers also slightly turn their heads to one side and lean toward your shoulder for a brief moment, while holding your hand. It's as if they are checking your aura.

Soon we were approached by four little girls, all of whom looked to be 8-10 years old, asking if we wanted to look at the weavings they were working on. About the same time, Anne learned that Patrina was having her womanhood ceremony. The ladies were in the kitchen busily preparing the corn for the cake as we went through to view the weavings. Patrina joined us; and all the girls proudly showed us their work, which Dovely and I were totally impressed by. Patrina also showed us some of the jewelry she had made. (I don't know about Dovely, but I was drooling.) She does excellent work, with a very good eye for putting combinations together. Most pieces are one of a kind. We were also treated to a carding and spinning demonstration. Carding the wool looked simple enough, but the spinning looked like a horse of a different color. Strands of wool are loosely wrapped around the bottom part of a straight wooden rod (similar to a dowel) resting on a disc. With one hand holding the end of the strand, Patrina then placed the stick against her leg and began to roll it with her other hand. As the wool twists, she also pulled the strand in her hand, forming thread. My description is probably really bad, but hopefully you get sort of an idea. I would certainly have to practice a lot to do this and get some more patience somewhere, too.

Once the initial "ice" was broken, everyone kind of formed little groups, conversing with one another. Dovely began finding bits and pieces of wool that were caught in the landscape where sheep had passed by. She braided some and wove it into her hair. Next thing we knew, she had become the Pied Piper. The girls flocked around her, waiting their turn to have their hair done, too. As I watched these proceedings, I hung out closer to the cooking area (of course) to observe. It didn't take long before several of us were comparing fry bread recipes and such.

The whole time, the girls were full of energy and mischief, too, constantly trying to sneak up on a brother and his girlfriend and catch them kissing, or creeping up on some unsuspecting soul in the outhouse to poke a stick or something through a hole at them. After this last observation, Dovely and I decided to wait until we went down to the lower house, where this possibility would be eliminated. Before heading that way, though, we both got our cameras out and began taking pictures. The girls really seemed to enjoy hamming it up for us. When we all finally did get ready to retire for the day, the girls thought we were leaving. We literally had to pry them off the truck, laughing together the whole time and assuring them we'd still be there the next day.

Sleeping arrangements were made; and one by one, we each ventured out back to assess that situation before it got too dark. * G *

I slept soundly; although, like Anne, it initially took awhile to get to sleep. I think Al and I awoke about 5:30 a.m. the next morning to the smell of coffee and biscuits that Mae was preparing. It was already daylight. (Seems they get a lot more daylight time than we do in TN.) Quietly, I put on my shoes and headed "out back." The wind is calm, now; and the landscape looks fresh, again, I observed. My perspective of the land has changed. Now I see that there is more variety of plant and animal life than I had first observed. It feels good, and I thank Creator for a glorious new day.

The biscuits and coffee tasted good. We began discussing what to do for the day. No agenda here. After all, we were on Indian time. Shea began telling Al and me the history of the Navajo people, starting back more than 1,000 years ago, when the people lived on top of the ridges because the canyons were filled with water. Later, when the water had gone, they moved down to the canyon floor, because it wasn't safe on the ridge tops because of storms and tornados. Later still, a terrible prairie fire occurred, spurred on by tornados. Many are killed. It was during this time that some of the Dineh who were fleeing the fires ended up in Canada. They are known as Diné now and still speak the same basic language as their relatives, even though this event occurred centuries ago.

Our fellow travelers decided that we needed to go back to the Hopi Cultural Center to check on Dovely's car and go to the closest grocery to get supplies before going to Roberta and Jake's. Shea promised to continue our history lesson later and agreed to be our guide to Roberta's house. We asked Shea if there was anything we could pick up for him at the grocery. His wish list was simply some cokes, a loaf of bread, a pack of bologna, and some cheese, which we were more than happy to oblige.

By noon time, we headed out to Roberta's, with Matt driving, Shea guiding, and Dovely trying to draw a map as we went. Anne stayed behind to talk to Mae.

I thought the ride was great; although I'm fairly certain Matt will disagree, since he was doing all the work. There was more wildlife to see. A funky green lizard, the kind with a collar, scurried across the road ahead; then a pair of frisky chipmunks, which immediately reminded me of the Chip-n-Dale cartoons. As we slowly traversed the ten miles from the bottoms of the rocky canyons and across the ridges, Shea told us that these roads were once horse trails, then wagon trails, (can you imagine pulling a wagon through this place?), and finally the automobile came.

Like Shea said, almost exactly an hour later we arrived at Roberta's place. One of the first things we saw was one of her famous signs instructing would-be evictors to "sue the Creator." Although dealing with a serious issue, it was obvious that this lady has maintained her sense of humor.

Introductions went around again; and Jake immediately put on a pot of coffee, serving it up when it was ready. Meanwhile, Roberta opened some of the things we brought. She seemed pleased with the pestle and mortar we brought, as well as the clothes and food. Later, Roberta spotted a bag she hadn't noticed before and got up to investigate. Jake asked if he could help; but with a girlish grin, she let him know that she merely wants to see what else she got. Such a dear lady.

The second thing I noticed was that, even though there is no escaping the dust, the house is totally neat and clean inside and out. Over the front door is a swallow's nest. The mother and father flitted around us with food for the babies, as we moved outside. (We were in the way because the porch happened to be the only shady spot around.) The birds really didn't seem to be afraid of us, though. The garden out back is laid out perfectly, including a birdhouse. Even the outhouse, a bit further back, has an inviting look about it. Over to one side is a shed and the corral for the sheep. In the front, to one side, is an oven inside a neatly fenced area. If I hadn't known what it was I would have mistaken it for a pile of dirt from a distance; and up close, it resembles a miniature Hogan. Jake's Hogan is off just a little ways to the right of Roberta's house. It's plain to see her hand in the making, because it is just as neat as everything else around; and, as if it were planned to go along with the home place, the view is auspicious, with everything blending and matching everything else perfectly.

On the way back, Al wondered aloud if he had a vision or something, because everyone we had met so far seemed so familiar to him. I agreed, saying that even though I had never met or seen a photo of Jake, it was like I had seen him before. Then we all got kind of quiet for a bit. All of the sudden the name Sam Elliot popped into my head. I turned to Al and said "uh," and Al said, "I know." We burst into laughter. No doubt everyone else thought we had finally slipped over the edge and lost it; but Jake does have a big bushy mustache, just like Sam Elliot. What can I say?

When we got back to Shea's, we discovered that the power had been turned off; but everyone was going about their business as if nothing had happened. Anne had finished her interview with Mae and was talking to Louise, when we walked in. My interest falls on Mae, though, who was sitting in front of her loom weaving. I watched for a few minutes, then asked her if I could take her picture, which Mae agreed to. In order to get Mae and at least part of the weaving in the shot, I ended up sitting on the floor practically under the kitchen table. This led to a discovery-it was cool down there-so I just sat there for awhile and continued to watch. I could see Mae kind of looking at me every now and then out of the corner of her eye. I suppose she was seeing how much interest I was showing in what she was doing. She seemed pleased.

As the sun began to go down and things started to cool off, Dovely got a fire going outside to make roasted potatoes and lamb packets. Inside, mostly in the dark, I prepared a big pot of beans and rice. We had a delicious and filling meal with some to spare. Since the potatoes weren't quite done, Dovely left them on the fire and told us we'd have them for breakfast. About this time the Hopi Ranger showed up, and the potatoes were forgotten until later.

We were all tired by the time the Ranger left and went to bed thinking things had settled down. That's when the shenanigans really got wound up. I won't go into that, though, since Al has already done it. I didn't feel a moment of fear for the skinwalkers though, and actually slept rather well, even with the two kittens sleeping and playing all night between our heads.

On our last day, we all woke early again and it was another glorious day. My first impressions and dislike of the landscape were entirely gone by this time, and I felt comfortable. It appeared that Mae had decided that Dovely and I weren't idiots and began handing out little things for us to do. (Oh, I forgot. The first day the Grandmother kind of ignores you while sizing you up and deciding if you are useful or not. I found this tidbit of information rather amusing)

As soon as we had eaten, our history lesson with Shea continued as promised. This time Dovely sat in with us. There were small groups here and there talking; and I kind of flitted from one spot to another trying to not miss anything, if possible. The talking continued until early afternoon. Suddenly, I spotted Sherry crest a nearby hill with the herd of sheep and goats. The flock knew where it was going; but just in case, the sheepdogs were there, too. Friendly little dogs, each one gave me a big grin as it passed by heading for the water troughs. As the last ones went by, I followed with my camera. Yes, I took a bunch of pictures, as if I'd never seen sheep and goats before. Probably seems silly, but somehow this seemed different. They not only piled in around their own water troughs, but got into the ones inside the horses corral, with the horses all looking on with obvious disdain.

I guess Sherry is the one person I've not mentioned until now. She seems a bit shy and soft spoken, at first; but you can really see the wheels turning. She is a typical 18 year old with big dreams of nice new designer clothes, a car, a laptop computer, and world travel. Of course, of course. Who wouldn't want those things, right? Even though Sherry wants these things, she still holds onto the traditional ways, too.

It was obvious to both Al and me that all the younger people where we were at are being taught the old ways. Not by book, but by mouth, since theirs is an oral tradition. A couple of other things I noticed (that some of us from "white" society sometimes have a hard time understanding or adjusting to in our hurry up and get down to business attitude, which can get some of us into a whole peck of trouble with a lot of different cultures around the world.) are:

1. If you ask a direct question, you will not get a direct answer. You'll get the answer eventually, you just have to be patient. With oral tradition you get the history and all that builds up to the answer.

2. There are no specific organizations as we think of them. We tend to feel the need to put a label on an organization or group of people (why, I don't know). There is structure among Indigenous people, you just have to look at it a little differently. In my mind, family is the key; that's the organization. I'm really not sure how to explain this so maybe Al or some of our other Indigenous members would like to clarify for me.

Okay folks, I'm about to wrap this up. Thanks for bearing with me so far.

Al covered the highlights of our ride home, and I don't think any of you truly want to hear me elaborate on the joys of riding Greyhound. Suffice it to say that it will be either a new car or fly the next trip out.

My final words are these (don't ask me why or what it means, cuz I don't know. Probably nothing): When passing through Winslow, AZ., Al spotted a sign on a corner that said, "Standing on a corner in Winslow, AZ" (supply your own music).

That's all. Take It Easy.

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