Econ 295 / SOAN 291

Last day of the trip spent was with lots of cacti, border patrol, quality time in the van, prickly pear lemonade, and – of course – glorified portapotties. Exploring Organ Pipe National Park, I came across another “bathroom” at the start of Alamo Canyon Trail. Compared to a similar structure at the Saguaro National Forest mountain pass, this toilet felt like a golden throne. On the outside, these “bathrooms” appear as well-built and consciously-designed structures decorated in wood and stone. On the inside of the Saguaro National Park one, though, I was accompanied by flies that did not move, a horrid smell, and a lack of toilet paper. Luckily, the one at Alamo did not have flies and had ample toilet paper, but only had one toilet. My suggestion to all National Parks is that, if they want visitors to spend more time on their land, they MUST improve their facilities. My first of many great suggestions (that should be feasible) is complimentary hand sanitizer. Please. At least users will feel better about the experience if they have the chance to anti-bacterialize themselves.

Tangent aside, I loved Alamo Canyon – all the lizards and hummingbirds, and especially walking along the rocks of the dried-up wash. I was introduced to lots of new cacti, especially more of Harvey’s favorite: the Teddy Bear Cactus. In all honesty, I am slightly disappointed that I never saw a rattlesnake or scorpion on any hikes for the sole reason of being able to say I saw one in person.

After spending a lot of time learning about Tohono O’odham traditional agriculture in class and for my research paper,  I finally got to listen to Arizona locals talk about personal experience and recent efforts in the field. Nina and Sterling from Ajo CSA came to talk to us about desert farming and desert foods, as well as show us what the small town of Ajo has been doing to try to revamp and restore the local food system. I surprisingly enjoyed the white tepary beans very much, even with the fact that we were eating them at 8:30 in the morning. Touring a dry field, I still do not understand how ANYTHING grows out here in the desert. I wonder how easy it would be to feed the whole world if all crops could grow without any water or reach harvest in just 60 days…

With the afternoon to explore and the evening to interact with locals, Ajo became my favorite place of the whole trip. The town has an impressive history, but one that unfortunately ended abruptly with the demise of the mining industry. With historical sites such as the Curley School and its accompanying art movements, the town has the potential to be something great again – something that locals and groups such as the ISDA are working hard to make come true. Hopefully this small southwestern town will find itself back on the map one day.

Maybe this is a stretch and would not be something that locals would like, but I think Ajo could be a great film site, just saying.

Ajo street murals

From Topawa, we headed down to the Mexican-American border with Peter and the class. Of everything we had planned for the trip, I was most intrigued to visit the border. All I’ve ever seen, as I’m sure most folks in the class relate to, is what the media has portrayed about the border, so it was interesting to actually be there, face to face, with the Mexican border.

I think the topic is rather interesting, and of course, it’s something that we should be thinking about today, given the border’s relevance in modern politics. For the O’odham, I see how the border must be a frustrating reality. For the entire country, the Mexican-American border is a frustrating reality, though perhaps less directly pertinent given you or I’s little interaction with the actual border.

I think it’s safe to say that all or most of us agree that border security is important, no matter how stringent or not that security is. The question for the United States is: how can we maximize national security while minimizing hardship for immigrants and citizens? And for the Tohono O’odham, the question is the same, except they might add the question of how to preserve sacred, long-standing culture in border protection as well.

The question is long held and will likely be debated for years to come. Personally, I think the United States needs to legalize pot and deal with its opioid crisis if it has any hope of stunting drug smuggling and crime along the border. As for illegal migrant crossings, I couldn’t tell you what the solution is. I can, however, recommend ample communication and planning on the part of the United States government and the Tohono O’odham Nation.

In other words, Eric S. crossed the border in broad daylight and then hopped back into the US. Is he a federal criminal? Comment down below.

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I loved the time we spent at the mission. First of all, Friar Ponchi is literally a baller, and I appreciated both his enthusiasm about the mission and his humble modesty. The nice black cat at the mission was also very kind, and my room was yellow and blue and rather relaxing. I wish we had met with Friar Ponchi as a group to talk about the mission during our time there, as I was a little confused at first where exactly we were and why. I figured it out in time. Still though, Ponchi was the man.

Day 2 in Topawa was spent almost entirely at the Tohono O’odham Cultural Center and Museum, where Peter arranged many a’ meetings for us — all of which were certainly worthwhile and interesting, but also all of which lasted very long. It was nice to have the majority of speakers concentrated into one day, however. I just wish we had a few more breaks, or maybe some coloring pages to help keep the hands busy while listening.

That afternoon at the mission I went for my first walk since before coming to Arizona. We also ate dinner with Joe Joaquin, who was a rather enchanting elder from the way he spoke. I enjoyed the way everyone went quiet whenever he said literally anything. I tried to make dinner nice, and I hope he appreciated it. Go Joe!

In honor of the mission and Friar Ponchi, here is a haiku.

Oh Friar Ponchi

You are a freakin baller

Sweet old Jesus Freak

Later note added 2 minutes post-publishing: I really did love the mission and Topawa — it was my favorite part of the trip 🙂

#ThreeForTheHolyTrinity

#FourForTheO’odham

I woke up in the morning on Monday feeling anew. The worst of my shingles was over, and I could put weight on my leg again. Woohoo!

Though I was a bit disappointed still about the previous few days, I was happy to be at least quasi functional and back as an integral member of the class. Plus, we were headed to Indian Country, and I really couldn’t stand another meal at El Nene’s (sorry Guse). Actually, El Nene’s wasn’t all that bad, but my gut was starting to feel that sweet Mexican cheese a little too friendly.

So, we headed out to Topawa, or at least in that direction. I was running a little late given that I was slow moving, but I made it to the van, and we were on our way. Our first stop was Tohono O’odham Community College, which I found to be well-organized and actually rather charming. The programs there seemed to be well run, though I’d be curious as to what their employee / teacher turnover rate is. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask any questions as I was still in a half-shingled daze, but c’est la vie. The bread at lunch was delicious. Also, Danny was a baller.

From there, we went to the Tohono O’odham Cultural Center and Museum. The facility was so nice and spacious — not an eye sore at all in the middle of relatively pristine desert. I also appreciated how “private” they seemed to keep the museum; rather, they didn’t want any photos taken, and it wasn’t even really a hub for tourism at all but a place for O’odham to centralize, learn about, and expand upon their traditional cultural teachings. This facility is probably the main distinguishing aspect that I noticed between the structural progress of the Tohono O’odham and the Lakota people in terms of cultural stability, preservation, and resilience — the Cultural Center really seems to serve a great purpose in the community and for O’odham culture.

Crystal and Peter gave a great tour of the place. Likewise, the dude who does the archeological stuff in the back was awesome, and he wore a dope hat.

At this point, everyone in the class was probably like, where the fuck is Haley? Now you see her, now you don’t. Well, my friends, you know what happened.

When I woke up on Sunday, I at least knew that things would be getting better soon, but I still had very, very bad shingles. The rest of the class had gone to Saguaro National Park to hike, but I, obviously, was not capable.

Honestly, this was pretty hard for me. If you know me, I love the outdoors, and I also have a hard time taking any capacity of a break, even with shingles. In my mind, I hoped that somehow I could get better in a day, but my body denied me that, and I had to adjust not only what I expected from each day but what I expected and wished for from the trip in general. I’d have to rest. And so it would have to be.

So, instead of going on a hike at Saguaro National Park, Eric, Harvey and I went to the Desert Museum together since we had missed it the afternoon before. Honestly, this was one of the highlights of my trip – despite the pain, it wasn’t too bad to get wheeled around a beautiful botanical garden.

We had originally planned to head to the park behind the rest of the group, but Tanner had the keys, so instead, we got an Uber to the museum, and let me tell you, Mr. Uber dri-vér probably made the whole thing worth it. His name was Steven. Great guy, honestly.

At the museum, Eric wheeled me around and I sat half engulfed in pain enjoying the scenery. We spent some time in the hummingbird pit, as well as some time in the bird cave. I have a special and loving connection to my aviary friends, and I felt comforted with their presence in my pain.

The three of us spent a good chunk of time at the Stingray touch exhibit, which was my personal favorite part of the entire excursion. Imagine this: crippled me, Harvey, and Eric just pettin stingrays for like 20 minutes. It was pretty wholesome and wonderful, although Harvey’s watch stopped working because he put it in the water. I think that was the universe’s way of metaphorically saying that the experience was so incredible it could make time stop.

When we were done at the Desert Museum, I was in a lot of pain and got kind of sad because I had shingles and that sucked. Luckily, I had called the Health Center (shout out) to get advice about how to manage the pain, and the nice nurse told me to down ibu and Tylenol til I felt better. So I did, roughly 15 of them. And from that afternoon knitting at the pool on, I was on the road to recovery.

By the time we were done at Casa Grande, I knew something was wrong. A measly rash shouldn’t hurt this bad! But I am strong… Yes, I am strong.

The night after CG I decided to stay back from El Nene’s to rest and tend to Her. Juan R delivered vegetable lo mein to Eric and I. Meanwhile, I prayed to the Bird Gods that this hellish rash would disappear and I could still participate in everything on the trip.

I knew there could only be three options. 1. I’d wake up the next day feeling fine. 2. I’d wake up, feel fine, and then start feeling awful. Or 3. I would be bedridden and sad. And from the moment I rest my eyes that night until the foreseeable future, any dream I had of intended productivity, spiritual growth, and relaxation would be gone.

We woke up the next day to head to San Xavier. I was still playing it cool. I was excited for our first opportunity yet to get into the community, be in the desert, and interact with O’odham people. At San Xavier, we met with Angelo Joaquin, and, while I’d like to comment on how much I enjoyed listening to him speak, how much I loved San Xavier, and so on, and so forth, all I can remember is the aching screams of my insides as shingles took me over and sent me into a deep hole of excruciating 11/10 pain for the next 3 days.

I ended up having to leave San Xavier early to deal with it, though I wasn’t sure why a simple rash would hurt so god damn bad. Eric and I went back to the hotel, and after about an hour of being in a lot of pain, Harvey knocked on my door, and all three of us went to Tucson’s best NextCare facility.

The establishment wasn’t bad. At that point, I didn’t really care. I had said to Eric that I hoped they would surgically remove my skin and legs to stop the pain. That did not happen. But they were very nice. The male nurse said he liked my style, and the doctor, who I believe was in fact O’odham, diagnosed me right away and prescribed me with a  regimen of 54 total antiviral, antibiotic, and anti-inflammatory pills to take over the coming week.

You, she said, have shingles.

Also, the NextCare facility overcharged me, but it’s fine.

I noticed during the flight a small rash starting to form on the back of my leg. What is this? Certainly nothing.

By the time I got to Phoenix, She (shingles) had arrived, but I didn’t know it yet. I tried to shower, called my mother, did everything I could to stop the rash, but She was here, and I could not stop her.

Day 1: Pueblo Grande and Casa Grande

Pueblo Grande was very interesting, though it was comical how this very ancient historical site was seemingly right in the middle of an urban area. The tour guide seemed nice and like he knew a lot, but I wish that he spoke more about the actual cultural happenings within Pueblo Grande. Rather, I thought the tour brushed over a great deal of information and could have stood to go more in depth given our age and interest. Also, did anybody else hear the tour guide say that humans are changing the climate but not as much as “natural forces”? I’m not sure I agree with him. Nevertheless, it was a good show.

I found Casa Grande to be especially interesting and beautiful. Before this trip, I’d visited Mesa Verde in Colorado once, which is a similar ancient civilization structure, though a great deal more expansive. Still, Casa Grande was exceptionally well preserved given that it’s made of mud and is thousands of years old. In some regards, you could feel the age-old energy of the place — of a civilization past long before you today. That isn’t something you get on the East coast. Meeting eyes with the CG owl made me feel right at home.

Hello! It is Friday the 10^th and I have finally gotten around to writing a blog post. Not my fault, entirely, or so I claim. I got shingles and that f’ed literally everything about my existence up for multiple days, so my plan to blog each day was thwarted. So, I’m going to attempt to re-trace my steps and approach the blogs as I had planned to, starting from before actually getting into Arizona and onto the reservation.

Last year, I took Land in Lakota Culture for Spring Term, and it served as a period of real growth for me in that time of my life. It opened up new doors that had never been opened in my psyche, and I knew I wanted to take Tohono O’odham Land & Culture (or however each of those names go). Unfortunately, the year before this Spring Term was less conducive to approaching the four weeks with intention and spirituality and so on and so forth. In fact, even without a full course load, I was running around like a legitimate crazy woman still trying to get my mind, body, and life together.

Needless to say, I was excited to be gone from Lexington and the rigors of life. Likewise, I was excited to learn about a new American Indian culture that I’d had no exposure to before this course. How would it compare to last year’s experience on Pine Ridge? How would my personal experience compare?

I was ready, but little did I know, my body was not…