Southwest Reflections

Our kids have never been interested in playing Cowboys and Indians and we certainly wouldn’t have encouraged it if they had. (We try to channel that kind of energy into Star Wars play, and I could do an entire post on why.) But now Little Man has a new bow with 3 suction cup arrows and he is quite at home. I’d forgotten how much skill is involved in archery and he’s just about mastered his aim. He and Doodle have been running around playing Native Americans in the hotels at night. “Quick, Doodle, go get those bad guys! They’re trying to kill our buffalo!” Doodle will run and attack the curtains while Little Man takes aim at the window. I suppose it’s all part of the processing.

I’m compelled to note that one night in Sedona, I took Peanut out for a couple of hours and when I got back, Grandma had quite a story to tell. Little Man got mad at Doodle and called her a F---ing White Person, something he clearly picked up from the kids on the Navajo reservation. She ignored it, and we’re all crossing our fingers that he doesn’t call someone that at school!

The United States is truly so diverse, both physically and culturally, but the Southwest in particular is stunningly unique and special. Digging around in the dirt and finding itsy-bitsy pieces of Quartz, is a thrill one can only experience, not learn from a book. Seeing Native Americans cultivate anything in such barren land makes one appreciate the Garden of Eden we’re fortunate enough to live in.

Even within the desert there are obvious differences you can only experience by driving day after day. New Mexico is littered with windmills. Colorado has yurts everywhere. Utah has tiny L.D.S. churches with clean bathrooms, even where it seems no one could possibly live much less worship. I’ve always been taken with the miniature chapels dotting the highways and the trains that seem to run for miles, where you can't see the engine or the caboose.

Peanut was particularly taken with the hogans in Arizona. They’re circular shaped houses with a single door that always faces East. It’s like a modern tee pee and is usually the first and final dwelling. When the family is financially able, they build a Western style house and use the hogan as a church or gathering place. But when you get really old or sick you’re actually moved back into the original hogan. When your clock says time is up, your family makes a nice comfy bed on the ground outside the door with a little awning to protect you from the elements. It is here, out in nature where you can finally rest in peace. We were told that the Navajo believe the good goes with you when you die and the bad is left behind. Therefore, should someone die inside a dwelling they’d have to burn it down. No need asking bad spirits to linger!

Favorite parts of the Southwest Road Trip:
Peanut, "Pretty much Slide Rock, White Sands and the Dude Ranch. I liked looking at the pretty desert and everything on the drive, I'd say, seeing all the things you never get to see, like the forest with all the Joshua trees by the Grand Canyon."

Little Man, "At the Dude Ranch, when I saw Loop Rawlins do rope tricks. He was really nice. And driving around by the Grand Canyon."

Doodle, "Pink babies and pink princesses."

Grandma, "The Grand Canyon Sky Walk and I loved seeing the kids react to a real hail storm. I just liked being able to go. I'm tickled silly that I was even invited and I like the idea that we went from one different part of the desert to another different part."