French artist Jean Francois Millet painted haunting, and sometimes bleak, scenes of ordinary rural life in the 19th century. His painting The Sowers became the symbol of European liberalism and socialism. Millet’s work, while popular in his own century and later with French Impressionists, gradually fell out of favor. Modernism lost interest in images of the rural poor.
As you drive into Monticello, Utah, which I do frequently, there is one solitary stop light. In fact, it is the only stop light in San Juan County. A few years ago, if you’d have turned toward the east, you’d have been on US 666 headed for Colorado and then New Mexico (the Four Corners areas). You’d first be crossing pinto bean country and then into the Navajo Nation.
I love to play Scrabble, but I’m not very good. My friends and work colleagues routinely outplay me. But I play on.
In Scrabble, there are only a few “q” words that don’t require the vowel “u”. One of those is “qat”. Until recently, I had only a faint idea about its meaning or significance.
That all changed when I read a short article in a recent NG. As it turns out, qat is a drug (stimulant) that is routinely used in Yemen and Africa’s Horn, but is illegal in the US and Canada. In other parts of the western world (including the UK), however, it is very much legal.
On “60 Minutes” a couple of Sundays ago, they had a story about gold mining in eastern–almost lawless–Congo. Because of my obsession with nearby Uganda, the story was very much of interest. And the story is very topical right now with the price of gold hovering around $1,100/ounze. But I want to tell this tale backward.
I left Provo on Friday. Luckily, I didn’t have to drive. I was physically and emotionally beat. I needed a break.
After I crashed in Page AZ for 36 hours, the crew from Engineers Without Borders (EWB) headed out to the lands of the Navajo Reservation. The first day we spent with tribal members living in the very isolated Navajo Canyon. The area is a Garden of Eden, blessed with several springs (of living water). The families living there ned help with further developing their water resources. In the past, there had been water development, but much of the infrastructure is now deteriorated. The old orchards need pruning.
After flying from Utah to New Mexico, we headed north out of Albuquerque and then turned left at Taos. After crossing the volcanic Rio Grande Canyon, we arrived at Earthship, a troglodyte community located in the New Mexico desert. While waiting for our host, we walked around the visitors center . . . and wondered what we had gotten ourselves into?
It is estimated that 8,000 homes in the Navajo Nation are without reliable water. And many are without commercial power. The Indian Health Service (IHS) and Navajo Tribal Utility Authority (NTUA) will not be able to provide services to many of these homes anytime in the foreseeable future because of geographic isolation and cost constraints. At stake is the traditional culture of the Navajos. As they move into subdivision to get “modern” conveniences, they are increasingly separated from their pastoral heritage.
On June 12, represenatives from several NGOs and I arrived in Kampala, Uganda. Our plane trip took way too long: 4 separate flights that covered 4 continents and took 48 nearly-sleepless hours. Our Africa hotel was overbooked, so a friend and I had to stay in a nearby hotel. We were staying in old Kampala, a working-class portion of the city. That night after visiting an Internet cafe, I started to walk alone back to my hotel room over a route I wasn’t familiar with. I wandered slightly of course and fell into a deep stone-and-mortar-lined ditch. I cut my head and lost consciousness. There was urban runoff flowing down the open sewer. The rest of the story I have pieced together from witnesses I could find.
National Geograph claims they have found the remains and burial site of folk- and cult-hero Everett Ruess. Ruess disappeared in southern Utah in 1934. He was 20-years old at the time of his disappearance.
I haven’t been skiing much since I damaged my right knee long-boarding 2 1/2 years ago. But, at the invitation of my son, I’ve gone twice this month . . . both times at “mom-and-pop” resorts.