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| The Alhambra |
I've only been home a couple of days and those days have been filled with many people asking me to plow and tend to their fields. Red Willow Farms is a free service we offer to the people of Taos Pueblo to do work from field plowing to seeding to ditch work (the only thing you gotta do is plant and harvest and don't let it sit idle and die or it makes our endeavors useless - though the more you do the more that needs to be done.) Farming is never really done and last year was a sad year for many people because of the droughts, however, we try every year because that's what we need to do; stay away from politics and casinos and plant, tend to our fields, and be Pueblo people.
As much as my mind wants to go to the fields and horses and a gig in Tulsa this weekend my heart and mind are still connected to Andalusia, Spain. I close my eyes and I see the brick faces of the moors; I hear the songs of Roma; I taste the sweet capricho andaluz on my tongue. As time passes and I walk my corn field examining the fresh shoots of white corn memories will fade and morph into many other aspects like the corn maiden's journey.
Sometimes in life the unexpected is the most profound teacher. I realize, as I look back to when I was asked to perform Po'Pay Speaks in Spain, that I had some apprehensions because it speaks directly to the history of the Spaniards/Conquistadors in the "new world" as it effected the Puebloian cultures and I'm one Pueblo man in a sea of thousands. I barely speak Spanish which I vowed to learn as a fluent form and which made me feel fairly useless in Spain with my Northern New Mexico idioms.
Though, as I saw the world of Andalusia, I began to see how much of that world was more than Spain and how much of it was also my history; it was the foods of India settled hundreds of years before; it was the smoky hookah cantinas of the Berber's; it was the massive architecture of the Alhambra; the quiet mornings of the las cueva's de Sacremonte; it was the salty winds of the Mediterranean sea bringing the whispers of future travels to Morocco.
It's in the sacrificial leaving of one home that gives us the understanding and the love of the heart and soul when we decide to step off the edge - that's when we see who we are and where we are going.
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| This is the closest I have come to Africa. |
Heres a bit of history: the English term Gypsy (or Gipsy) originates from the Greek word for "Egyptian" in the belief that the Romanies, or some other Gypsy groups as the Balkan Egyptians, originated in Egypt, in one narrative they were exiled as punishment for allegedly harboring the infant Jesus. Hmmm... interesting.
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| Rio Darro |
This word is sometimes written with capital letter, to show that it designates an ethnic group. However, as a term 'gypsy' is considered derogatory by many members of the Roma community because of negative and stereotypical associations.
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| Flamenco la Nina |
Another part of history within the region of Andalusia is the Flamenco - the origins of which are from the displaced tribes North of India who, via their stay in Egypt, ended up in Andalucía, south of Spain, where their art, language, songs, and food fused with the different people; the Jews, Spanish, Moors. Traces of Arab culture are also reminiscent as well as others which all gave rise to the original art of flamenco - within rhythm, song and sound all unique to flamenco is a hybrid form of artistic survival expression that is birthed in Andalusia but owned by no man.. Hence, the often dark feelings in flamenco but yet there is a passion of human kindness and survival. I have always loved the form; the feelings and serenity, and now I can say it's also part of me because I too am Roma from the new world.
More to come my friends.
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| just one of the many steps of Granada |
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| looking; searching within in Granada Spain |
"ESCUCHAR A MI TE ECHOS DE MENOS TODAVIA ."
Con amore, Mirabal
