Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Indian Time: Oh My New Mexico



1:17 MST -- New Mexico

I have never seen anything like this before. Like a friend told me, the trees hung the ground as if they are going to fall off the earth. How can two small trees that seem to share a common trunk look so different? One tree is green, small and hugging the ground. The other is in the same position but is only skeleton of dead branches. It is as if they were Siamese twins and only one survived.

I have to post photos of the broken church we saw. It was as if the ground shook (maybe it did) and parts of the church just broke off. We stopped and got gas. Gas is $4.16 for the cheap stuff. They have no “pay at the pump” here and the bathrooms are in a cinderblock building. They do have running water in the cinderblock outhouses, its just really low water pressure.



Inside the store two Indian guys (native Americans that is) are sitting and chatting about their friends and family as if they have no where else to be – EVER. This is what they call “Indian time” I think. I learned about this when I was in a literature class. As I understand it, in Indian time if you say you are coming over to dinner at 6pm on Tuesday you are not actually expected to get their until at least 8pm and it is completely acceptable if you show up at 6pm on the following night. They know your coming eventually and so everything is cool.

I really felt at ease among these two guys at this tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere. It just felt naturally natural. Like there is nothing to worry about at all in the world… or at least nothing is worth worrying about. God, I really wish I could adopt a bit of this perspective. Maybe this is the main problem with the noise of the big city… instead of making quiet peace in our chaotic inner-city environment, we go on anti-anxiety meds and go on vacations where we have no idea how to do “nothing”. I SHOULD LEARN FROM THIS.

We are back in the car and a sense of uneasyness returns. Like we have to drive faster and rush to make up time for stopping and spending those lovely moments with the Indian guys. They are probably still sitting there chatting as one rings up more tourist’s “Route 66” souvenier coffee cups. Yes, I bought one. I’d rather buy it from this local merchant than a Phillips 66 gas station.

I’m trying to hold onto that New Mexican moment long as I can.

Current entertainment: Passion by Peter Gabriel and then the Pschedelic Furs and now onto the Weakerthans (now, I already feel better thanks to John Samson’s sweet sweet voice).

Addendum: Later on listening to the Weakerthans made me cry. I guess I need to learn how to listen to "Night Windows" under a different sky.

I hear John K, Samson singing it now:
Remember when...
I'm sorry that...
I miss the way...
Could we...



You can see the heat coming from the car in front of us in this photo.



Does this look like Mars to you?