As we were driving the back roads to the Acoma village, we stopped at an overlook with a tremendous scenic view of the whole valley with the Acoma mesa in the middle, ringed by valley and then by surrounding cliffs. Here we found a vendor family, he was a silversmith while she was a potter. She had examples of her work, her mother’s, her sister’s and several other family members including her 10-year old niece. The Acoma are known for their delicate pottery made with very thin walls and very fine black lines. Many in the Acoma community use commercial brushes but she and her mother use yucca, one strand yucca brushes.
I found the pottery on her table exquisite. She told us that she could take 1 - 2 months to make a pot while her mother could take 3 months because her lines are so fine. Did I see any that I would like to have? You bet, several, and one brick red one in particular. But, do I want to carry a delicate piece of pottery in our rolling home which bounces down the highway? Do I have a place for a piece of pottery in our 8’ x 30’ home? Nope and nope. So, regretfully, we told her that her pottery was exquisite but that we couldn’t buy any and continued on our way.
We switchbacked down the side of the cliff to the valley below and headed towards the mesa in the center where the Acoma village was. You must stop at the Acoma Cultural Center to get your tickets and board the bus for the village. You cannot tour on your own. Our group boarded two buses with Brandon, whose Acoma name is Turtle, and up we went. Here we found a community of about 70 acres built almost entirely of sun-bleached adobe. Although there are about 300 homes here, only about 50 people live on this mesa year round since there is no running water and no electricity. But the town fills to overflowing on feast days and especially on September 2, when they celebrate the feast of St. Esteban.
The 2 buses curled their way up the 370’ to the village at the top. Originally the Acomans climbed to the top of the mesa using hand and foot holds. The road we traveled wasn’t built until the late 1900’s.
After we had left the bus, Brandon gave us some general information about his people. I got out my notebook to take notes and was told that no notes could be taken. So, being the good doobie that I am, I quickly shut my notebook and put my pencil away. I got back at Brandon later when he apologized to me. I told him that I would have written down the name of the band he sings with - but I couldn’t take notes. Too bad. He laughed.
Interestingly, women own all of the homes on the mesa and everything in them. They also own the cars, etc. After the marriage, the husband has 4 years to build his wife a home. After that it is hers. If there is a divorce, the husband walks away with the clothes on his back. Of course, the divorce rate is fairly low. Then, the inheritance goes to the youngest daughter.
Much of what Brandon told us was the history of the Acoma people. And, of course, much of this had to do with the Spanish. The largest building in the village is the Church of San Esteban del Rey, built by the Acoma people - under the direction of the priest and the weapons of the Spanish conquistadors. The building might be an epitome of Spanish religious architecture, but it is also the epitome of Spanish brutality. The roof beams and the 4 main altar logs were found on Mount Taylor, 11,000’ high and the Acoma men carried these logs back to the village on their shoulders a distance of 30 miles. Since the altar logs were ‘holy’, any Acoma man who dropped them to the ground was killed. The only trail up to the village on the mesa was a hand and foot hold trail. The logs had to be carried up this trail. I’ve got a few pictures of this towards the end of this blog so you can imagine how difficult to carry 40’ logs up it.
Obviously the Spanish provoked many incidents with the Acoma people and all of the other pueblo people throughout the Southwest. After one such incident, the Acoma retaliated and, after the inevitable Spanish win, the Governor, Don Juan de Onate, found them guilty and every male over the age of 25 had one foot amputated, every one between the ages of 12 and 25 were pressed into slavery and the children were sent away to convents.
On the other hand, they Acoma people had some subtle ways in which they resisted the Spanish. Normally the Puebloan people entered their homes via a ladder though the ceiling. During the Spanish rule, however, they were forced to have doors on the street level so that the Spanish could enter at will. Here in the picture you can see the result of this rule. Since the Acoma people were about 5’ tall, they made the doorway tall enough for them to enter. The Spanish were 5’7 and had wore armor. Obviously, it was difficult for them to enter these doorways. HA!
Eventually, the Spanish retreated in 1680 and the Acoma were left in peace in their Sky City where they have lived since.
Here you can see our tour group standing by the ‘Acoma National Forest.’ This is the only tree on the mesa and the Acomans have laughingly named it a National Forest.
There were many Acoman artists displaying and selling their goods throughout the community. Gary and I need no jewelery but we could use a piece of fry bread. Note the smiley face cut into it.
The tour was complete and educational and we all thanked Brandon for his enthusiasm and knowledge. At the end of the tour we had a choice: return to the Cultural Center by bus or climb down to the Cultural Center the way the original Acomans did. Well, actually, not the original way - not using the hand and foot holds. No, they’ve carved steps into the sandstone so it is easier to get up and down. And, guess which choice Gary and I made? You guessed it - we took the older trail and walked down to the Cultural Center. Here’s Gary standing on the steps with his hand in one of the old handholds. Luckily there are steps.
We were joined by a young British woman who worked for her company at Los Alamos as an ‘essential’ employee. She was visiting Acoma with her parents who had come over from England. This trail was made for the Acomans of the 17th Century and not for us large Anglo Saxons of the 21st. It’s also pretty worn and slopes down. But, but, but - it’s better than hand and foot holds. You can see another hand hold near her left hand.
After the tour, we headed back to the RV but we needed some groceries. Yesterday, knowing that we needed to shop and, wanting to shop somewhere else besides Walmart, we had checked an app on our I Phone for nearby grocery stores and found only convenience stores. Then we drove down the main street of Grants which is the main town in this area to see if we could find a grocery story. No, we couldn’t. This area had thrived when the uranium mines were producing but had been almost decimated when they closed. Now all that was left was Walmart. And, that is where we headed on our way home today.
When we had finished and were on our way back to the highway, we saw this sign by a nearby store. Aha, maybe that trip to Walmart was serendipity. Inside we found a liquor store but - there in the middle was the telltale freezer with about 16 different flavors. The sign on the front window said ‘Blue Bunny’ from Iowa but the ice cream was Blue Belle from Texas. I had the Southern blackberry shortbread while Gary had the - of course - mint chocolate chip. Did that ever hit the spot. Looks like a salad tonight for dinner for me. But, as the old saying goes: life is short, eat dessert first. Which I did.
As we were sitting in our car savoring our ice cream I noted the Bud sign ahead of us. What is it about ‘for life’ that Budweiser does not understand? Only ’Up to 50 years’?
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