I enjoyed the story “The Man to Send Rain Clouds” by Leslie Marmon Silko. She skillfully emoted the flavor of reservation life. The depiction of the stoic but steady progression of events was beautifully related. The story brought back my memories of Tuba City, Arizona. It took me to that little dusty town with pot holes bigger than our van, to the smell of fire and rotting carcasses, to the powdery 100 degree heat that produced random, meandering dust devils that weaved across the sparse landscape. It took me to the painted desert and the far off multi-colored jagged mesas . It took me to that place where capitalism was shaken off and the raw stuff of life sat unashamedly bare upon the dry, red soil that our forefathers so graciously gave them.
The summer of my Junior and Senior years in High School, I worked at a Navajo Reservation with my Christian youth group. Now, we didn't get in our Bible Bus with our Bible shoes and set out to go Bible thumpin'. We were invited by the Native Believers there in Tuba City. Once a year they have their “Camp Meetings”. It's a big deal and Navajos from towns all around the reservation show up for it. Our job was to occupy 70+ kids while there parents were in the camp meetings. It was the most, by far, profound experience I had ever had in my young life. At first the kids were quite wary of us, but after the first 100 or so horsey back rides... we started to bond. The memory of those kids is one of my most precious to this day. I also remember being taught by the women how to make fry bread and how they laughed at me like I was built upside down or something. I remember that I cried like I was being ripped apart when we left.
I can identify with the Priest in the story. He not only had to adjust to a different culture, he had to try to relate and make relationships. Silko did a good job pulling me into the Priest's discomfort and disconnect. When I first got to Tuba City, everything was just a notch different. Things were askew to my norm just enough to give me the fish in outer space kind of feeling. As the week progressed, I got to know the people there and really came to love them a lot. Still, I never completely lost that off kilter feeling. We spoke, but never with absolute ease. There was always something missing or missed. That's exactly what I felt when I read “The Man to Send Rain Clouds”.
4 comments:
Fish in outer space--wonderful! Thank you for that thoughtful and thought-provoking post, Robin.
Different cultures are amazing and I love experiencing them. I went to Costa Rica when I was younger and I understand what you mean by things being a notch different. Loved the post by the way, very interesting. Tuba City sounds like something straight out of an old western.
You have a picturesque quality to your writing! Wow!
I really relished the poem too. It did bring back many memories of my life in the four corners.
I grew up in Tacoma, WA and was sent down to Waterflow, New Mexico to spend summers with my grandma and grandpa who owned a trading post right off the Navajo reservation.
Plus, as an adult I moved to Ignacio, CO and worked with the Ute Indians there. As an adult I felt that I was the "notch different" in the small hick town. After traveling around the world, it was so awesome to see a rich culture right there in my own backyard. I also seen the transformation of my life from big city to country living. It was truly an experience that I will never forget. Though personally, I do not miss the tumble weeds and dust devils! But only in the four corners can a person get great fry bread and Navajo beans! Oh lets not forget, roasted jalapenos! I have the receipt for fry bread, but still don't know how to do it as light and fluffy as my family does.
Thanks for sharing your experience with us!
Their is just something nice about the idea of a place like that. An Area so off the grid that it's just a kind of simple little town. A town where nothing bothers it other then the actions going on in side it. Even though there is a big difference it makes me think of the ancient native american cities at Mesa Verde. They developed there cities into the sides of the cliffs.
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