New friends in Grants

The way I came into Grants was probably not the best. On the "red line," which is the main CDT route, I faced a 15 mile road walk from the ranger station. So it goes! And it's a real highway, which, oddly, means that it hurts the feet more, and the people in cars are less friendly. The people who travel the dirt roads are not so prosperous...they don't look down on sweaty hikers. They almost always wave back, sometimes stop...sometimes give us water or a soft drink, and always are interested in where we are from. But on upgraded roads the travelers are not the same. They lean back in their seats, and regard people on the roads as annoyances. I've seen lips purse visibly at the sight of my friendly wave.

I can't help but draw lessons from this kind of thing. Prosperity separates people from each other. Too many toys creates desire for more toys, and more and more, we see only the toys and not the people who might make them. I ate breakfast in Grants this morning with Nico and we laughed about this. "The people in beat up pickups are worried about their families, and the people in BMWs are worried about why their Spotify playlist isn't saving correctly," we joked.

Anyway, it's been a fun "zero" day here. I've been stuffing myself with a guilty pleasure: Pizza Hut! They deliver, so I just roll out of my bed down to the parking lot and get m'pizza. Mmm.

Getting around in Grants is odd. There is no uber or taxi. However there is a really cool nearly free shuttle service called the Rockin 66 Express. You call and schedule a pickup and possibly a trip back home. I used it twice to get to the post office, which saved me at least 2 hours of walking, which I don't want to do right now! Both days, David picked me up and I learned his story. He's a member of the Yaqui tribe, and a fairly recent arrival in Grants. He and his wife lived in California, and moved here after their car broke down in town, and he made use of the Rockin 66 to get around. He was already a bus driver, and was offered a job here. Perfect!

We had to stop at the battered woman's shelter, a nice-enough building surrounded by heavy gates and barbed-wire. David said that a mother and her son were there. He gave them some rides over a few days, and the boy didn't want to leave the bus and go back to the building. That made sense to me because David is a kind of "home" of a man who projects safety and kindness. Well, this got to him. He spoke to the pastor of his church, and as it turns out, she was able to take the mother and the boy in to her home.

She eventually moved away, and by some magic the pair were able to stay in that home, and since became members of the community...the mom got a job and the boy went to school.

Um...this is something I'm seeing more and more. People, like David, who speak about the glory of God and their thankfulness, are often worried about others. Often looking out for ways to help. You see...they've felt lifted up when they ALSO felt undeserving of being lifted up...and my goodness...when that happens: your idea of what the world is never recovers its old, dismal stability with you at the helm.

So their eyes become attuned to the course of the "undeserving" drifting through town like tumbleweeds. They ask themselves "where is she sleeping?" Or "How many days since that kid sat at a dinner table?"

THIS becomes their "Spotify playlist." At their best, they become a part of the network of sunlight, fresh air and soil nutrients that even in this high desert allow trees to grow. It makes me wonder about the inner life of sunlight. For if a tiny piece of that energy so alters the flow of a human life, what is the feeling inside the purest form of that giving light?

Anyhow, today Kathrin, Mountain Goat and I were again in the shuttle with David, and as he took us back over to near the Walmart, he said that he needed to give us something. Stopping at his house, he invited us quickly inside. We met his wonderful wife and admired the many bird feathers and other symbols on the walls. He related that his band fought with Pancho Villa against the Americans, hoping to regain their land. Later, Villa began selling land to Americans for money, so the Yaqui broke with him, at least in part. This "breaking" divides families of the tribe to this day. David chose his bride 44 years ago, enduring rancor because she was from a family on the other side of that fight.

In this way, they became a living symbol of what they want to do with their life. He gave us his business card, which names him as "Personal Fence Builder." When I read that I hear "mender." That is...borders are real. But they don't have to divide us. They could be our connectors as well. And I think that's what he means.

David gave us owl feathers, beautifully embedded in jewelry of green and turquoise. It was a blessing.

Also on David's card was the (nowadays cryptic) phrase: Romans 8:35. I looked it up:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

No one, David. No one but ourselves. And so we must watch. May our light remain steady, like the sun over this large, and only seemingly empty land.