What About Albuquerque?

 On March 26, Tyler and I left Gallup, NM and went on to Zuni and El Morro. As I have mentioned, all were memorable places.  While we hoped to camp at El Morro, the small campground was full, so we decided to drive on to Albuquerque, which was about 2 hours away. While we were on the road, I called and reserved a room for four nights. When we arrived, I happily popped out of the truck and went in to register us. I took my place in the short line. 

The person at the front desk appeared to be efficient; she obviously knew her job. However, as I watched, I realized that she was not really interacting with the guests. She knew what she needed to say: "Fill this out and sign and the bottom. We will need your license plate number and your credit card number". She never really looked at the guests while doing what needed to be done. It was around 5:00 p.m. or so, a time when travelers and out of town workers are often tired and want only to settle in their room. For some, this interaction might be enough.         

When it was my turn, she realized she had not pulled our reservations. I told her that I was not surprised, I made the reservation only about an hour or so ago. She, on the other hand, expressed much surprise. Talking more to herself than to me, she replied, "But I always have things ready." 

I, however, am at the stage of life when efficiency has pretty much lost its luster. I smiled and said, "What beautiful earrings you are wearing." On each ear she wore a large blue circular disc surrounded by beads. She stopped and looked at me. She then touched one of her earrings, a movement that many of who wear earrings often do when someone notices what we have on. Maybe I am not alone in needing to touch them to actually remember what I am wearing. She then added, "I am an Indigenous beader. I usually sit here and bead." I would have liked to have learned more, but there were weary people waiting behind me. I thanked her for her help and her beautiful work. This time, she smiled. The next day I saw her again. She was holding her beading project close to her face and was working with much attention. As I needed nothing from the front desk, I chose not to interrupt her. I did not see her again.

This interaction set the tone for my trip to Albuquerque. Tyler and I had come for one reason: to see if we believed that we could live there. For me, that meant talking to people. It was a wonderful experience. I even talked to the wind. On our first full day there, the wind came through, stirring up a sandstorm. Tyler made just one comment: "You have got to be kidding." I laughed, and said, "Hello Wind. I remember you from my childhood. I see you have come to welcome us." I grew up in West Texas where one is often greeted by wind and dust.     

Yet, it seems that even in an arid land, lilacs grow. The scent was so enticing, as the people, the art, the food, also proved to be. More to follow.      

  

    

 image: Lilacs growing in Old Town Albuquerque