At the age of 62 I just had my best Halloween ever. Barb and I were invited to a combination birthday Halloween party at the Pueblo. We have attended other feasts and parties on the Pueblo, but every-time we go it is a learning experience. As I have mentioned before, there is not much of a tradition of photography among the Pueblo peoples. Without going into detail, I had several pictures that I thought would be of interest to those attending the party. I was barreling down the road in my Ford F150 after going into Albuquerque to get a lot of prints of the pictures.
As I was heading down the road I saw a wonderfully healthy and alert coyote starting to cross the road ahead of me. Coyotes learn early on to be wary of humans. I swear I could tell from his face the when he realized I was coming faster than he expected. In an instant he kicked it into a higher gear. He turned his head, and as his head turned his tongue stuck out. I know better, but it looked like he was laughing at how quickly and safely he crossed the road. For sure I was laughing. I love dogs, but love and admire these Southwest coyotes. Their ability to live in such a hostile environment is truly impressive.
I continued down the highway and turned onto the dirt road that wends it’s way up the canyon wall to our house. Barb makes a salad with craisins, almonds, pears romaine lettuce and a home made dressing. This is totally different from any of the foods prepared on the Pueblo, and is wildly popular. We packed up the salad, the pictures and left for the Pueblo. The Zia Pueblo forbids celebrating Halloween, but it is a big night for the Jemez. There are a lot of reasons why it is so much fun. First, the Pueblo is a communal society. Everywhere on the Pueblo the kids are accepted, and treated as family. Secondly, many of the adults have as much fun as the kids. Artistic creativity is highly valued by the Jemez. You don’t see costumes purchased from Walmart, etc. Instead, they draw on their long experience from preparing special clothing, jewelry, etc. for ceremonial purposes. Certainly the clothing is for a different purpose, and is entirely different--but these guys definitely know what they are doing when they sit down to create a Halloween costume.
The roads on the Pueblo are ancient. They are not laid out on a grid, and the first challenge for a visiting gringo is to find the right house. This is especially a challenge after dark, but we drove up to the correct house on the first try-a good omen. We saw a lot of outdoor fires, some grilling various meats, and others just used as a social opportunity for talking and getting warmed up as people went to different houses on the Pueblo.
Whenever possible, homes on the Pueblo have at least one large room, with a table that seats ten to fifteen people. In this particular house you come through the front door into a large room, where the outside walls were lined with about twenty chairs. From that room you walked into a kitchen/dining room with a large table. Every part of the table was covered with food-mostly traditional Jemez dishes. The grills were in high gear, and there were all kinds of meat to chose from. I am a famous wimp when it comes to the super hot Jemez chile. As often happens, I received several good natured invitations to try one or another of the various chiles on the table. The Jemez grow their own chili, and dishes they prepare are practically an art form. I take it by the teaspoon, and eat it in the way someone else might use Tabasco sauce. We finished a huge meal, with at least thirty people coming and going from the table as space became available. The huge salad Barb had prepared was a big hit, and was gone to soon. It is hard for us to understand the scale of an Indian feast, and Barb will plan on doubling the size for the next feast. (That will amount to about 1/2 a bushel basket in size).
As the meal was drawing near an end, we started moving to the room at the entrance, sitting in the chairs surrounding the room. Now the trick & treaters were coming in earnest. Barb and I were the only non-Jemez in the room, and the only ones who hadn’t showed up with a large bag of candy. It turns out that the custom is for kids to come into the house and go around the periphery of the room receiving candy from each of the people sitting there. Once again the Jemez people were incredibly generous, and there were no complaints, even from the little kids, about the rich white people who came empty handed. I was sure glad I had brought the pictures, which were a big hit.
The festivities were still going strong when Barb and I decided to head down the road and up the canyon to home. It turned out that we weren’t on the road I thought we were taking. We were definitely still on the reservation, but the lights of the village had disappeared, and we were on a road that narrowed to the approximate width of my pickup. Turning around was not a very good option, and backing up was impossible.
We drove across a couple of shallow arroyos, and some things started to ring a bell. I knew I had never been there, but I realized this road had been described to me by one of my friends on the Pueblo. A large meteor had buried itself on this part of the Pueblo, and I had been promised a guided tour to go see it. There was no hope of finding the meteor in the dark, and what I was really looking for was a way to the highway. The road took a sharp right, and all of a sudden I saw the highway on the other side of a gate. The gate had been left open, and we entered the highway. Our wanderings on the reservation had been generally in the direction of home, and we walked into our home about twenty minutes later. All in all a full night that was pleasant, friendly, educational, and just a little exciting. I love life in the Jemez mountains.
As I was heading down the road I saw a wonderfully healthy and alert coyote starting to cross the road ahead of me. Coyotes learn early on to be wary of humans. I swear I could tell from his face the when he realized I was coming faster than he expected. In an instant he kicked it into a higher gear. He turned his head, and as his head turned his tongue stuck out. I know better, but it looked like he was laughing at how quickly and safely he crossed the road. For sure I was laughing. I love dogs, but love and admire these Southwest coyotes. Their ability to live in such a hostile environment is truly impressive.
I continued down the highway and turned onto the dirt road that wends it’s way up the canyon wall to our house. Barb makes a salad with craisins, almonds, pears romaine lettuce and a home made dressing. This is totally different from any of the foods prepared on the Pueblo, and is wildly popular. We packed up the salad, the pictures and left for the Pueblo. The Zia Pueblo forbids celebrating Halloween, but it is a big night for the Jemez. There are a lot of reasons why it is so much fun. First, the Pueblo is a communal society. Everywhere on the Pueblo the kids are accepted, and treated as family. Secondly, many of the adults have as much fun as the kids. Artistic creativity is highly valued by the Jemez. You don’t see costumes purchased from Walmart, etc. Instead, they draw on their long experience from preparing special clothing, jewelry, etc. for ceremonial purposes. Certainly the clothing is for a different purpose, and is entirely different--but these guys definitely know what they are doing when they sit down to create a Halloween costume.
The roads on the Pueblo are ancient. They are not laid out on a grid, and the first challenge for a visiting gringo is to find the right house. This is especially a challenge after dark, but we drove up to the correct house on the first try-a good omen. We saw a lot of outdoor fires, some grilling various meats, and others just used as a social opportunity for talking and getting warmed up as people went to different houses on the Pueblo.
Whenever possible, homes on the Pueblo have at least one large room, with a table that seats ten to fifteen people. In this particular house you come through the front door into a large room, where the outside walls were lined with about twenty chairs. From that room you walked into a kitchen/dining room with a large table. Every part of the table was covered with food-mostly traditional Jemez dishes. The grills were in high gear, and there were all kinds of meat to chose from. I am a famous wimp when it comes to the super hot Jemez chile. As often happens, I received several good natured invitations to try one or another of the various chiles on the table. The Jemez grow their own chili, and dishes they prepare are practically an art form. I take it by the teaspoon, and eat it in the way someone else might use Tabasco sauce. We finished a huge meal, with at least thirty people coming and going from the table as space became available. The huge salad Barb had prepared was a big hit, and was gone to soon. It is hard for us to understand the scale of an Indian feast, and Barb will plan on doubling the size for the next feast. (That will amount to about 1/2 a bushel basket in size).
As the meal was drawing near an end, we started moving to the room at the entrance, sitting in the chairs surrounding the room. Now the trick & treaters were coming in earnest. Barb and I were the only non-Jemez in the room, and the only ones who hadn’t showed up with a large bag of candy. It turns out that the custom is for kids to come into the house and go around the periphery of the room receiving candy from each of the people sitting there. Once again the Jemez people were incredibly generous, and there were no complaints, even from the little kids, about the rich white people who came empty handed. I was sure glad I had brought the pictures, which were a big hit.
The festivities were still going strong when Barb and I decided to head down the road and up the canyon to home. It turned out that we weren’t on the road I thought we were taking. We were definitely still on the reservation, but the lights of the village had disappeared, and we were on a road that narrowed to the approximate width of my pickup. Turning around was not a very good option, and backing up was impossible.
We drove across a couple of shallow arroyos, and some things started to ring a bell. I knew I had never been there, but I realized this road had been described to me by one of my friends on the Pueblo. A large meteor had buried itself on this part of the Pueblo, and I had been promised a guided tour to go see it. There was no hope of finding the meteor in the dark, and what I was really looking for was a way to the highway. The road took a sharp right, and all of a sudden I saw the highway on the other side of a gate. The gate had been left open, and we entered the highway. Our wanderings on the reservation had been generally in the direction of home, and we walked into our home about twenty minutes later. All in all a full night that was pleasant, friendly, educational, and just a little exciting. I love life in the Jemez mountains.
