We made it to Santa Fe again for our annual Susuki Camp with the grandkids. This is our fifth summer. It’s always a fun time for all, although the camp is pretty intense for the kids. Santa Fe in a most unusual city. The food is terrific and the surroundings are fabulous. It’s a very historic place. The Spanish were here before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. The Indians were here long before the Spanish. The Indians owned everything before the white man came in and took everything away from them. The Spanish taught the Indians the art of scalping, the atrocity that most people blame the Indians with creating.
Santa Fe still has a large number of Indians. Most of them are fat and old and are sitting around the Plaza selling their jewelry. The younger ones are drunk on the reservation or running casinos. My grandchildren were disappointed when they went to downtown Santa Fe to see the Indians. They were expecting to see a painted warrior with a feather headdress streaming to the ground. Instead, they saw the toothless, old, fat ones.
Santa Fe is now mainly inhabited by the earth people. These are pseudo-intellectual, arty folks with leathery skin from the prolonged sun exposure who live off vegetable, nuts and bottled water. They all have backpacks and rarely bath. If they have a car it is a hybrid vehicle with bumper stickers about saving the earth or political stickers supporting Kerry or Gore. If they have a religion it is usually Unitarian. They mainly worship the earth and nature and respect all Gods. They don’t stake a claim for any one God but are open minded and love them all.
I’m okay with these folks for a few days but I soon get to feeling out of place and long for the solitude of my back porch in Salado. Hopefully, my health will remain good and I can build up the courage for a return trip next year. In the meantime, I’m ready for a chicken fried steak and seeing the puffy, pallid people in church or the mall at home.