Monday, May 30, 2011

Heritage

I stood on a hill overlooking Phoenix International Raceway to the west, the Gila River to the east and the Salt River to the north. The hill overlooked the confluence of 2 major rivers that have been apart of the history of the region of the Sonoran Desert, in what is today Phoenix, for 1000s of years.

PIR

Before the Americans, the Mexicans. Before the Mexicans, the Spanish. Before the Spanish were those who have gone before us. And yet they remain amongst us. Native Endians have been around for 1000s of years. They built an advanced civilization here, in Phoenix, that lasted for 1200+ years. I wonder if Phoenix will last that long. We certainly have the capability, if we are smart and not greedy. Right now, Phoenix is 130+ years old.

Gila (what's left of it)

There were 2 gentlemen with their children and dogs. The children were keen to go do something. The men reluctantly were led away. They had enjoyed being up there, I think. The sun wasn't quite summer hot, though it beamed down on all on a cloudless day. Behind me was a gentleman and his son. After the others departed, we talked a bit. His son had turned 13 that day. And his father was showing him his heritage. He was telling him about hiking in the moonlight up in the estrellas. He was talking to him about the rivers. He told me he was sharing his heritage with his son- just as his father had done, and his grandfather before him and so on. His family had been in the area a long long time.

Salt

I told him I wish I had had that in my life. I told him I had to learn about the rich culture and history here, on my own. He seemed pleased to hear this and hoped his son was paying attention. We chatted about the rivers and the dams and the power plant he worked at. We chatted about petroglyphs and where to go and see some. He soon departed with his son. I turned my gaze back to the rivers and the mountains and the desert I live in.

I haven't had a heritage. I have no history with a land, a place my parents shared with me. I have no Illinois or Wisconsin or Mississippi or New York or even Arizona. My heritage and history was a constant movement between towns and suburbs. Mostly suburbs. I am a product of a poor part of suburbia. I never had a tie to land in any meaningful way. I chose Arizona as my home as an adult- though I had been here since I was a youth. I chose to live in the desert and dwell as one from the desert. I have no stories from this place that my parents can share that aren't town-centric. I can't point to a place where we vacationed when it was too hot to stay in the valley. I can't relate the rich history of a city or region. I didn't have the heritage, the oral tradition, the traditions, the people or practices.

I had some tidbits from external to my family, from a time in scouting and volunteering and exploring in my youth. And those are the roots of what little I have. I live in the desert and that means I must learn the desert, learn its strengths, weaknesses, how to coexist and thrive in a way that doesn't require me to subjugate it as we see so many in suburbs do (and this is so very hard for people to understand or do- including me). Should I live in Florida, I would learn to live that way. Should I live in New York City, I would try and do the same (god help me).

I hope I can create stories to tell my children so they can relate to theirs. Ones of the land, the water, the sun above and the deserts and mountains below. And I hope others do the same. And if you have that rich tradition- enjoy it and share it.

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