I’m still adjusting to the job itself, quite the switch to be working for the government in public health as a community dietitian after years of clinical. I still get to work individually with the Navajo in an outpatient setting while tackling gardening and social marketing projects and the ever present, possibly soon to be bane of my existence, meetings! The gardening project is one in which I’m most excited about. The possibilities of instilling change by way of teaching kids how to use the land and where food comes from (what a concept, it’s not the grocery store?), promoting healthy sustainable lifestyle choices, implementing farmer’s markets, possibly a greenhouse and a demonstration garden is all good stuff if not rather amusing looking at my background of a big fat ZERO experience gardening. Oh and did I mention I’ve even killed cacti before? Yeah, we shall see how big my learning curve is on this one. Frustration has already abounded, but such is the life of a civil servant I’ve been reminded entirely too many times already. I hope the years of being an officer’s spouse will continue to serve me well as I deal with bureaucracy and the world of government acronyms.
So on to the funny stuff, well depending on how you look at it. (Mom and Dad you might want to skip this paragraph). My latest driving adventure started as just that: quite the adventure. Here’s the quick skinny: self-proclaimed city girl buys an AWD after not owning a car for 3 ½ years, already puts on 6,000 miles and thinks she can handle back (Indian) roads at night. Well, apparently I can as I somehow got home but I will admit it’s the first time I’ve been in full on tears because of driving conditions. Do not trust GPS in these here parts, that’s my take home message. I thought I was just 30 minutes from home, nope, the twenty miles left on my journey took well over an hour. Over sand, I might add. And this is not the monsoon season where roads wash out and are always muddy. This was apparently an easy introduction to Indian route 4. After 14 miles the turn I was anticipating to be paved turned out to be yet another sandy road, to which I responded in tears, it was entirely too late to turn around. This was after an already harrowing ride and my car full of breakable stuff. I wanted to yell at my GPS as she kept telling me to continue to follow the road, well there are 3 different roads forking, which road should I follow, oh infuriatingly, calm GPS lady? I saw one coyote, a bunch of wild horses, and one man walking on the side of the road to which I screamed in horror at the latter. Oh and I forgot to mention this was late at night and after being in the car for an already 5 hours or so from Phoenix. I can not tell you how excited I was to finally be on a paved road! When I told the locals the next day, they said no one drives that road unless they live on it and especially not at night and certainly not as a single girl. To which the whole Navajo health education program proceeded to give me their numbers so if I ever get stuck, they will come and get me! Wow, now that’s an introduction to the navajo roads. Perhaps I should add that the main road to Chinle, the closest “metropolis” was just recently paved. Yes, I live quite literally in BFE.
Oh and the trips to the local grocery store must be mentioned as I either get semi-attacked by the stray dogs or just have to deal with men staring, at least they do not say anything or whistle or hiss as in some countries, but I quickly decided to heed the warnings of fellow colleagues and avoid it after dark by myself. It’s bad enough during the day unless the men are in the field drinking “ocean”, a.k.a illegal moonshine. It’s a dry reservation in case you didn’t know, i.e. no bars, no alcohol sold anywhere on the rez. Even cough syrup and vanilla extract because of the alcohol content is not found on the shelves, you have to ask for it behind the customer service counter. It has now become my favorite activity to find one weird item on each trip to Basha’s. Horse feed, spam, and random pvc pipes are just normal things to buy at Basha’s in Pinon, Arizona. Population about 2,000. Oh and there are 3 “restaurants”: Pizza Edge, Subway, and the fried chicken at the gas station. Let’s see how this foodie fares.
And another quick snippet about the culture I sometimes feel that I’m intruding upon. As of yet, I haven’t decided if my presence is desired or merely tolerated as there is obviously a tumultuous relationship between the government and the native Americans but this is a major tangent, one I’m sure I’ll expand upon at a later time. Here’s what I’m struggling with: there is no directness. If you ask a question, expect a particularly long, round about way of reaching an answer if you even get one on this conversation or the next. They may come back to you and finish their story or perhaps not, I’m still waiting on a few. However, there is a lot of kindness despite the awful history white man has brought upon this population. It’s not always voiced but the optimist in me is certain it’s there, I will attempt to uncover it in some way, shape or form. It still amazes me when people introduce themselves they include the clan they are from as well as their ancestral heritage in Navajo. These are the times I’m reminded of what a unique experience this job opportunity truly is.
And what a strange trajectory it has taken to get here. From volunteering in Fiji where I was first introduced to the idea of working on the rez by amazing people who loved it and somehow knowing that I’d get the same opportunity. It seemed like such a good transition as after such a long travel, what defines “normal” anyway. If you would have told me I’d be living in a 1600 square foot by myself after traveling the world for 9 months mostly staying in hostels, constantly around people from all over the world and then to essentially “travel” within my own country another 5 months as I looked for a job, living with friends, couch surfing pretty much, I would have said you’re crazy. And obviously I am. I could have worked in San Francisco, Guam, or Phoenix. I can honestly say I’m living in the present and finding I can make, this just my latest choice, an adventure of it. Despite missing my friends like crazy, I’m hoping this chosen adventure/retreat package will be good for my career if not my soul. And for however long I can manage to howl with the coyotes I will or perhaps I’ll find that I’m just not cut out for this, what sometimes feels like forced solitude. Although there is some social life on the rez, it’s certainly a different form than I’m used to. Potlucks, hikes, weekend trips and pow-wows have now substituted for happy hours, clubs and live shows. And if that proves to not be enough, well there is always more of that driving adventure.....I just won’t be relying on ms. calm GPS. So Southwest/Indian rez, show me what you’re made of because I’m oh so ready to explore more of you!
