Thursday, December 12th, 2013

 

I have been incommunicado for the past few days. It's been ok, but around day 3 I start to worry. My parents are getting older and my entire family lives in Maine, a very unsafe place to drive in the winter. I can't get any weather updates or news, so we have no clue what's going on in the world. Granted, this is not the first time without contact with the outside world, so I know I really shouldn't be concerned. Every time I reenter civilization, it's 

about the same. The news is about the same, my family is about the same and anything that has changed is but a blip on the radar.

 

I think about the pioneers a lot out in hinterlands. If they got word about their relatives, sometimes it took years. Grandma could have long been dead and buried and they would never know it. So, I will take the peace and quiet of not being connected for a few days and try not to worry too much about it.

 

The past week is a blur. It has been incredibly, ridiculously, bitter cold out. A few days it was in the teens during the day and minus double digits at night. We got spotty internet here and there and the places where it was good, we didn't stay too long.

 

Cuba, New Mexico. How to describe it. Some very old buildings, lots of poverty and some tasty Indian burritos made by hand in a gas station convenience store. They were much smaller than Mexican burritos, but also half the price. Perfect for me! Sam came back with a tasty, but much too hot for me burrito. I took one bite and knew I couldn't eat it. I was willing to get into the pb&j sandwich, but he sweetly went back inside and got me a breakfast burrito with green chiles on the side. It was perfect. Good thing too, 'cause we would need those sandwiches later.

 

On our way to Bandolier National monument, just outside of Santa Fe, we went through a very interesting little place called Jemez Pueblo.

From jemez visitor center

The buildings were all stucco and many homes had the large adobe ovens

From jemez visitor center

in there yards. We had seen a woman scrambling up the hillside that led down to the village, with a sign that read 4 tamales for $4. We went through the town and ended up turning around to see if we could find her place. We went down the narrow dirt road into the village and I started taking pictures. Little did I know that the fine print on the signs as you are coming into Pueblos says “no photography, anywhere”. You can't even sketch the place. If you are caught taking pictures, they can take your camera, or lord knows what all. We never did find the woman with the tamales, but we did get a glimpse into Pueblo life. I felt a bit like I was in Mexico. I'd show you the pictures, but then I'd have to kill you.

 

 

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