Ed

[Today's Photos] Back on the bust for a short ride to dinner. Dinner was Navajo Tacos, and included a long presentation by sad and/or bored Navajos: dances, demonstrations, Q&A. The dances were very well done, although something is lost when performed as a short snippet to taped chanting. I've been fortunate in having seen San Ildefonso and Walatowa dances, and tonight's experience seems canned in comparison. A real dance is something you feel in your bones.

Then three sessions: a talk on Diné culture, a tour of three hogans (the "a" is long and rhymes with "dawn"), and a demonstration of weaving. I enjoyed them all, and learned a lot -- or did I? We were warned that Navajos handle some topics seasonally: there are some things they can talk about only in winter or spring or summer or fall, and when out of season, they'll just make something up but not address the topic. An interesting perspective on life. Their universe is centered around the number four: four cardinal points, four seasons, four colors, everything has a meaning and can be broken down into fours. I wonder how that shapes one's outlook on life?

Tomorrow: all-day boat ride to Rainbow Bridge. Tonight: a bare minimum of sleep. Ciao baby.

Wahweap Lodge has no WiFi. Can you believe it? So I'm stranded on dialup for the next two days.

Oh, and in case you're wondering: I wasn't the only person to ask. I went to the front desk and stood in line behind three people. One of those was a motherly type in swimsuit and sandals. The other two were portly white-bearded biker dudes in full motorcycle leathers including sunglasses. All of them griped about the lack of net access. I overheard them, so there was no need for me to ask again... but I thought it might help to push the issue.

No photos and very little email or blogging until Wednesday night.

[Today's Photos] Busblogging again: won't have a chance tonight. We're on the road again, from Moab, Utah to Page, Arizona. We'll be staying at the Wahweap Lodge right on Lake Powell.

The most interesting stop today was at the Edge of the Cedars museum. We had five minutes to contemplate their collection of artifacts and stories: the artifacts were all found by hikers, who (correctly) left them undisturbed and reported them to the land management agency. Utah museums tend to beat you over the head with that motif; I guess it's better than not mentioning it at all.

A lovely Navajo woman gave us a poignant presentation on Navajo life. Her family pushed her into school at age six, asking her to learn and to bring "American Ways" into their homes. School is where she learned English. She described growing up with what we would call nothing. Her playground was the great outdoors. Her toys were flowers and rocks and even dried-out sheep pellets -- and she smiled while describing how she had fun. We were also introduced to the four original Navajo clans, shown the elements of Navajo weaving, and treated to three dances.

We had a brief chance afterward to sprint through the rest of the museum. They have a preserved turkey-feather blanket, and one where the feathers have been eaten away by insects or climate. A phenomenal collection of pottery. Four fully preserved stone knives with wooden handles. Stark scenic photographs. Recreated ruins in the back. Tardislike, the inside contained much more than one could have believed from the outside. We would like to come back.

There's an interesting statue of Kokopelli outside. Kokopelli seems to be making a comeback, or perhaps it's just in Utah. And the thinking has changed: it used to be, he was considered a fertility god. Now the belief is that he's a satyr, used in morality plays to show the evils of sexual freedom. I wonder if it worked as well as the Republican abstinence propaganda works?

From there to Monument Valley, scene of Hollywood flicks galore. Is it okay if I don't write much about it? Yes, it's vast and scenic and impressive and awe-inspiring. But compared to what we've seen in the past week, it just doesn't affect me as much.

We're in Arizona now, and have shifted our clocks back an hour. More evidence of decaying mind: I thought we needed to bump an hour forward. Sigh...