I finally checked out some of the local restaurants. Hadn't gone out at to eat at all since I've been here. The El Rancho "Home of the Movie Stars" is a great old structure from the 30s which is supposedly where the stars stayed when out west filming some of those great westerns I grew up with. Really cool inside. Food? Not so much. The El Matate Tamale Factory is a family run business where Mom cooks and serves and the kids take orders and deliver water. We were the only folks there on the 4th of July and couldn't help wondering why she stayed open, but were glad she did. Found an Italian place that will do in a pinch and they make their own gelato. Not nearly as good as Stella's, but will come in handy when the monsoons hit next month and the humidity goes up. The best is Earl's. Good food, good service and they allow local artists to not only set up tables outside (and they provide shade) but they also come through the restaurant, very quietly and not at all pushy. You say no thank you and they move on. Bought a beautiful horse hair pot from a young woman named Renalda and a cute set of earrings from a clearly autistic young man wearing a t-shirt for a local program that provides special services for special kids.
These artisans will sit there all day waiting patiently to sell their goods. They greet you with a smile, say good morning, and thank you for stopping by, but don't try to guilt you into buying anything. No pushy sales man approach as we have seen in some of the shops run by non Native folk. More on that later. And not a single person sitting on a street corner asking/demanding money for doing nothing productive. It's a completely different, and frankly refreshing, scene from Eugene and other cities I have visited recently.
We drove to the Zuni Pueblo on Friday. 35 miles from Gallup and a completely different place. Instead of Hogans on every homestead, every home has an outdoor Kiva or oven. Most have more than one. It makes sense, when the temperature is routinely in the 90s, to do your baking outside. I stopped to talk to a gentleman who was constructing a new oven and got some pointers. Guess what I am re-building when I get home!! Turns out it isn't unusual for them to break down after a few years, so I can blame Rich and his riding lawn mower entirely for the demise of my last one.
It was in Zuni that we were hit with capitalism in it's finest, however. After visiting 2 shops run by locals, one of which is cooperatively owned by the artists that sell fine Zuni jewelry and fetishes, we visited Pueblo something or other. We were immediately greeted by a man who clearly did not come from these parts. Selling "totally unique" everything that he would give us a very good price on. His stuff was unique all right. The only shop where I can guarantee you that everything was made in China. He isn't breaking the law. He doesn't advertise that it is Indian made. But he sits smack dab in the middle of this beautiful village that was settled 5-600 years ago, hawking garbage for the same price that true artisans that have lived here for generations are trying to get by selling. I didn't smack him, but I sure felt like it. Rich said he visited a shop or 2 in Gallup like this as well. Apparently some families from the middle east have discovered they can sell fake wears, originally marked with outrageous prices, but then "giving it away" for a price just under what you could purchase the real thing for, and stupid bargain hunting Americans will bite. It's absolutely disgusting. And there is something about being greeted by a saleswoman in a burka here, where woman are not only considered equal, but the elder women are treated with a great deal of respect, well it just makes you want to........walk out without even looking.
Enough of that. Yesterday we had an archaeologists dream day. We drove and walked through the Painted Desert, then on to an old pueblo from 1200 AD where some remnants of the walls are still standing and there are petroglyphs everywhere, some 2000 yrs old; on to the Petrified Forest, where we walked trails surrounded by the most colorful huge pieces of trees believed to be 21 million years old. Thousands of huge pieces of timber now turned to red, yellow and purples pieces of art. These trees provided shade for dinosaurs. Pictures and words cannot express the feeling of walking through this piece of history. And all within a 28 mile stretch of road in Arizona.
I introduced Rich to mutton sandwiches on fry bread sold at the food cart by the nightly Indian dances. Every night from Memorial day to Labor Day members of various tribes come to dance and sing and tell stories in the sacred circle by the courthouse. Yes, some of them are clearly Indians dancing for tourists, but not all. And it is nice to see this tradition being carried on. Some are very old story tellers with young family members doing the dancing. And I am always pleasantly surprised to see young and old American Indians there. On Thursday I had my head straightened out, once again. There is a basket out for tips. A young, disheveled appearing Navajo man approached the circle where the basket was placed. I had suspicious thoughts. The man then bowed to the sacred circle and emptied his pockets of what little change he had into the basket. This was repeated by another young Navajo, dressed in the fashion of the day, literally having to hold his baggy jeans up so they didn't slip completely off his butt. I get my head rearranged frequently here. Maybe that is why I am here.
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