My Southwest Trip - The Gathering of Nations Pow Wow

Saturday, May 1

I head out for The Gathering of Nations Pow Wow with my daypack, taking nothing that the Suburban's mice will want.  On my own, I get out at each gate and open, close, and lock.  I drive the narrow dirt roads with the eroding arroyos ready to grab an unwarry tire and pull me down.  I creep along the dry river bed, looking for the few and faded white marks that once blazed the trail and try not to bottom out.  I drive by Grandmother Tree hoping she won't drop another limb.  I get out to 25 South and head to Santa Fe.

Google Maps finds the Rail Runner Depot and I don't have a lot of time.  I rush into the office and move rudely past a couple of Native American women.  A microcosm of panic-induced carelessness for other people.  I get to make up for myself when one of the women is struggling to lift her bags onto the train.  I get the bags up the stairs and deliberately choose to sit across from her, hoping I might connect with her for real on the ride.  We say a couple of things and then a man sits down with her.  I can't figure out their relationship based on their conversation.  She talks about her kids and grandkids but I don't think he knows them well.

On the train, I'm channeling Anna Boysen who travels the world easily by herself.  Figuring out the transportation is big for this seldom traveler.  Eventually the woman and I get talking.  They are going to the Pow Wow, too, but later.  They have people to see at an earlier stop.  Her name is Elaine and she is hoping to find a shaman at the Pow Wow to help her with some health issues.  She's had shamans since she was a child but the current one isn't helping her.  She asks what brings me to the area.  I tell her a few things and that I'm hoping to find some spiritual healing, too.  She tells me I'm on the right path and am where I should be.

A while later we talk more and then she stops.  "You're going to meet someone who will give you a bad feeling.   Say nothing.  Just walk away.  And don't let it ruin your time here."  Hmmm.  Okay.  I want to make sure I don't spend the day waiting for someone bad.  Elaine suggests we might meet on the same train back to Santa Fe and asks if we can exchange numbers.  Sure, and we do.  I don't see her again because I leave earlier and she ends up not leaving until the early morning hours when the Pow Wow actually ends.

I take two city buses, both free, to get to The Pit, the venue on the New Mexico University campus.  I get my ticket, one of few white people in the long line.   Doesn't matter the race, it's fun to people-watch and I see much in the age demeanor and dress that is probably universal.

Inside, the stadium is packed and the usher keeps anyone from blocking stairs even if they're trying to find a seat.  She thinks by 3 p.m. people will begin moving out having seen what they came for.  That never happens.  So, I stand for an hour and a half watching competitive dancers in many colors, designs, feathers, and beads.  There are solo drummers between dance acts and on the Jumbotron I watch how their drum strike looks like one but sounds like two.   The singing and the drums also remind me of the western shows and movies I grew up with.  I'm amazed by the initial gut reaction of fear and difference elicited all these years later and I stare at my racism creeping out of a hole.

I ask where the vendors are and the usher points around the arena.  Ruby suggested I should look for some horse energy, maybe mare's tail.  I wonder if someone really sells that and how they got it.  There are lots of vendors but nothing that calls to me.  The first woman I see owns several horses and sells some strands of horse hair with feathers that she says mean this or that.  It comes off feeling too commercial and I walk away.

I find out too late that there is at least one huge tent outside with more entertainment and vendors, including food vendors with options other than pretzels and hot dogs.   Unsure how to get back to the buses I took here, I leave earlier than I would have.  I call Uber after the cab wants to charge me $20 to go about five minutes to the RR station.  Less than $7 later, I'm at the station.  Somebody's gettin' street-wise.  I never met anyone who made me feel badly so maybe it was the cabbie.

I leave messages for Kathleen, Meg, and reach Kate.  I figured I'd call while I had WiFi but also don't want to feel the need to be so connected.  I'm killing time in an Albuquerque noodle shop and can feel it getting cold again like last night.  Since it's late and Juana gave her okay, I'm going to stay the night at her place in Santa Fe.  No way do I want to drive those miles of arroyo-edged roads in the dark.

In the morning I take Juana to breakfast at Chris'.  It's good and a fav of hers.  We have some get-to-know you conversation, a reminder that she is generous with her time and space to have me stay over.  I drive to the New Mexico History Museum on the Plaza to see the Lowrider exhibit which was a big part of Juana's life growing up.  The parking is non-existent and it's raining, raw, and cold.   I give up and head back to the "big box" area of town and decide to catch a movie.  I see The Boss which stinks and for the first time in my life, walk into another movie without paying.  I see Zootopia which I really wanted to see first.  Enjoyed it.

I get the word that weather at Outland is bad.  First, big rain followed by snow and the roads are impassable.  Shit.  Juana lets me stay with her a second night.  She gets up around 3 a.m. because she's a baker -- I've tasted her delicious, melt-in-your-mouth pastry that tastes of chocolate but is a very light color.  I spend too much time trying to get info on the Blue Bus to Taos on Tuesday.

Monday
Tracy, Indygo's girlfriend, had a drum fall on her head during the weekend and isn't feeling well but is putting off seeing a doctor until tomorrow.  That's Tuesday when I'm heading to Taos so they'll drop me back in Santa Fe. Tracy needs a lot of time by herself or with Indygo when she's here on weekends so I've yet to meet her.  I guess we'll meet on the ride out.

My Southwest Trip - On My Own

Friday, April 30

Nice surprise this morning - sometimes, just sometimes, the stars are aligned, the waves are in sync and a call or text can come or send!  Hell for some and not so for others.  I'm bundled in my parka and Bethie calls from Falmouth.  So good to talk with her.  Of course, she says I'm where I need to be, nothing happens without a reason, and that it takes time to settle in.  The call drops.

I cook my first breakfast at Windsong; three eggs, avocado, a piece of Indygo's cornbread, and OJ.  The sun is beginning to come out and still there are rain clouds all around the blue.

I'm supposed to print my Astrological chart today so Ruby can read it for me.

Ravens or crows fly even with Windsong and me on this crest.  According to Ruby, either a Raven or Crow has a fan tail and the other a wedge tail but I don't recall which is which and they aren't still long enough for me to see.  They tell me Ravens are believed to be ancestors.

Time to wash dishes outside with the rain barrel water.

Hail Storm  11 a.m.
Indygo and I are just about to hike in the arroyo to the mountain when I see some mean clouds moving fast.  I start back up the dirt hill to check windows at Windsong and the thunder starts as the black mass broils close.  I hesitate.  Go back to Mi Casa or get to Windsong?  Hail begins blowing sideways.  I start running up the hill and get inside to close Windsong's windows.  I watch the hail pile up on the deck like styrofoam balls an inch deep.  I dislike that I have such

Hail still in the arroyo.

a miserable environmental association with this natural occurrence.  It's still blowing horizontally.  So strong.  And it ends as quickly as it began, thunder still banging in the distance.  Sun is melting the white covering.  Blue sky in the west.  We can hike now.

And hike we do wearing gloves just in case.  Indygo had indicated a short hike to the Yoni Tree and Snake Rock but  changes her mind to the long and round about route.  I have plenty of water but would have brought more snacks!  She lost a pair of gloves up here and a walking stick and hopes to recover something.  The hail is still evident on the shaded side of the arroyo and between rocks.  There are cool boulders, blooming cactus, and vistas along the way including an overview of Outland.

The climb is loose rock and soft clay - poor footing and my now fav hat feels like it will choke me in the wind.   The steepness and poor footing puts me in mind of OLP's Devil's Hopyard.   It's been a while since I was so challenged by my fear and I appreciate Indygo's hug at the top.  We find Snake Rock but not without a few slide-on-your-butt moments that put a hole in my pants.

Cool rocks

Blooming cactus

Me at the rocks w/my borrowed cowgirl hat.

Indygo in the sun

Me post climb on the mesa

Outland buildings in the distance

We stop at Ruby's on the way back.  She's comfy reading and had fun watching the wild menagerie out her sliders.  She's worried about a baby cotton-tail that seems alone.  I go back a little later to pick up the latest copy of Maize.  End up staying while she helps me check schedules for the Rail Runner (RR), the train that runs from Albuquerque to Taos.  Incredibly inexpensive and comfortable commuter transportation!  Incredibly difficult to read schedules, even for a local!

She and Indygo have talked about The Gathering of Nations Pow Wow happening in Albuquerque this weekend.  But Indygo is staying here with Tracy and Ruby isn't up to the travel.   I'd like to go but hesitate about taking the gas-guzzling, honkin' Suburban for my own use.   Ruby tells me not to think of it that way but as a community vehicle.   With her valued permission, I make plans to leave the Chevy in Santa Fe and take the RR.  Ruby checks with her partner Juana to see if I can stay overnight at their apartment if it's too late when I get back.  I hope she doesn't feel pressured to agree and I'd really rather get back to the land if I can.

My Southwest Trip - Windsong

Thursday, April 28

Yesterday I started feeling that I need my own space.  Time is moving and I've spent so much time working and then living with Indygo that my own time is passing me by.  I'm ready.  Indygo says I can have my choice of adobes, Windsong or Towhee (named after the Spotted Towhee, an orange, white, and black sparrow that feeds on the land from the brush).

Surprisingly, Towhee has a sweet feel to the round room and though it sits near the bank of the arroyo with good hiking access, I'd have to carry water farther than Windsong.  And Windsong, it's as special as its name. 

Windsong deck

At the highest point of all the adobes, it has a loft and a deck with a view that looks out toward the mesas and mountains - ignore the power lines and the gray poop-pail, complete with seat, on the deck.

Here I can watch the Ravens soar, the stars shine, and the lightening strike.

Windsong poop-pail/shit-can

I talk with Susan from my new place.  I clean it out and nest, hanging my cards and tokens from friends.  It makes me feel like I have my own place.  I haven't felt that for so long now, just shy of two months.

Ruby cooked for us and calls me on the walkie-talkie to come down for dinner.  They knew I was nesting so started without me.  I shed a few tears at the table when they ask how it feels at Windsong.  It feels so good to have my own space if only for a short while.  Feels challenging that I'll be leaving soon for Taos.

After my call with Susan, I get ready for bed.  I turn off the light and see lightening in the distance, probably south toward Santa Fe if I have my directions right.  I see a drum and strike a few beats.  The lone sound startles me with its bigness in the dark.  I try to envision the Native American and other women who have lived in and around here over the centuries and feel their comfort.

The futon is thin and I feel every board.  I wake often to a hard and steady rain in the night, smiling at the thought that earth and plants will feel nourished.  Maybe we'll see some desert flowers before I leave.  After one of my night-time trips outside to pee, a human action that makes me feel free, I climb the ladder and pull down the small futon from the loft to add to the folded thin one and all is well.

My Southwest Trip - Settling in, Meeting Ruby

Wednesday, April 27

Indygo and I get along sharing space so she invites me to stay longer if I like.  It feels good to have company and I'm still feeling a bit like a wreck so am grateful and she enjoys company, too.



My first morning, I borrow a walking stick
(for snakes) and the closest thing I've had to a
cowgirl hat and walk with my camera up the road beyond the buildings.  I walk at least a mile and pass land that is fenced by someone.  Then I come to what I later learn is the old wind power for the land.  It no longer works.  I've taken pictures along the way - some of flowers and snow-capped vistas.

I find myself actually hoping to run into a rattler so I can take a picture.  I'm feeling braver after having met Jae the day before and asking her about snakes.  She told me, "They're used to us being out on the land so just be there in peace."  The land is also a nature preserve.  She recounted a time while coming out of a house that she stepped on one!  She felt her foot land on something soft and jumped straight out and away, realizing she stepped on a snake.  She said it just looked at her as if to say, "Really?"


Just had dinner w/Indygo and a "lesbian of substance" as Indygo described her, who has MS but remains as independent as possible.  We didn't stay very long because she was wiped out.  I think I was supposed to tell my life story but there was no time.  My stories have been interrupted several times when I was asked a question and I'm trying not to take it personally.  argh   

The first time I met Ruby was the day after I arrived.  She and her partner Juana were going to show Indygo around Santa Fe and I was invited to come along.  We

picked Juana up from their apartment and headed to the Plaza area.  Walking around, Ruby yells to me.  There's a Mountain Man on a leopard Appaloosa, bridled in silver, who was doing an intricate fancy prance down the Plaza street.

There were also a few Lowriders and Juana told us how that was a part of her growing up.  She said there used to be an informal show but I think it was banned by the city.  When I later spent another day or two in Santa Fe, I went to the Museum to see the exhibit but parking was virtually non-existent so I never did see it.  Ruby and Juana saw the real-deal show later just before another visit of mine.  I was to couch-surf multiple times at their Santa Fe apartment!  Who knew?!








Ruby is living in Honey House for a month having also been here in January.  She loves living on the land.  She says she's a "land-dyke" and spent many years at another womyn's land.  Now she's here but is relegated to pretty much staying inside Honey House because she uses a wheelchair and the land is not accessible.  She blows my mind when I see how independent she makes herself.  Given the people I know who are in wheelchairs and their accessibility challenges, I keep that in my mind for organizing and planning.


I'm suppose to work 20 - 25 hours a week to defray my costs.  There is so much to do.  I don't know how Indygo keeps going forward.  She arrived here in January a few days before Ruby who, as a land-dyke, passes on her knowledge.  Outland has so many needs since its hey-day of the '70s and it's much too much for one person to keep going.

Jae, the apparent founder and director, is indefinitely living in Santa Fe.  I don't know the last time that she was out to the land but she and Indygo are in touch often.  Jae is putting together a group of women to come out to work on one of the houses in a month or so.  A couple other women were here and rearranged the huge library in the Hearth, the community space.  But the Hearth is in desperate need of cleaning and not a place I want to spend any time.

Ruby's screen door needs repair so Indygo and I move from shed, to pile of stuff, to another shed looking for materials and tools to do the work.   We eventually agree to drive into Las Vegas (NM) to buy a few things rather than continue looking through potentially useless and infested piles.  I realize that though I'd like to do some physical labor, my best contribution may be organizing things - phone lists, lists of and ideas about volunteers, etc.  Indygo jumps at the idea.  I wonder if it will actually be used.  I take videos of the repairman talking about the two ancient copiers that are used to print copies of Maize.  I send them multiple times but they bounce back or Indygo can't open them on her non-smartphone.  

Cowgirl Ruby, me, Indygo

Ruby makes it her job to cook dinner for us after we've been working much of the day.  I hear she and Indygo call each other on the walkie-talkies.  "Red calling Blue.  Over."  It takes a day before it's clear that Red is for a Ruby and Blue is for the color Indygo.  I'm given my own walkie-talkie and declare myself Green for the Irish Emerald Green.

Blue has her own call to let Red know she's arriving at her house.  I knock but Ruby lets me know that's not the way it goes.  I need to come up with my own vocal tag.  It's a land-dyke thing.  I say, "Well, I could neigh!"  So that is forever my greeting as I arrive and leave her door.   She clearly enjoys it and says she will always remember me for my "Hi, Neighbor" neigh.  Okay, I'm sliding my way into the groove.