Have We Really Advanced?
I began my day running into a high-end luxury spa in Taos, New Mexico. Trust me
it was not my intended choice of destinations but sometimes urgency from the
bowel region dictates your immediate course of action. My apologies but that
was the most polite way I could say “bathroom break”. Anyway, my pitstop found
me in a restroom like no other I had ever been. The decor oozed of luxury while
the amenities exuded sophistication. In fact, I had a little trouble figuring
out what was the actual sink versus what was artwork. I was relieved for the second
time when an ornate stone orifice sprung forth with a steady stream of warm
water when I magically waved my hand in front of it. Lucky guess on my part. As
I exited the resort I briefly conversed with a hurried parking lot attendee who
disdainfully reminded me that my diesel pickup up truck made it difficult for
the vast array of luxury cars to get by. I dismissed his foul mood, hopped in
my burdensome diesel, and bothered him no more.
My day continued.
My day continued.
My next destination, and what I truly came for, was the Taos Pueblo. I don’t
mean the village where all the native Pueblo Indians live, I mean the actual
building, the one that has been occupied by the same family’s for over 1000
years. The oldest continuously occupied residence in North America. As the Taos
people recall, the one that has stood standing since time immemorial. My tour
guide was beaming with pride and had a great big smile as she reminded us that
everything around here has stood since time immemorial. Her happiness and
excitement were contagious.
Beyond the condo-like Pueblo, there were a few other structures, mostly single residences. Off in the corner lie the remains of the old church, mostly outlines of a foundation, a place where 350 women and children were massacred in an invasion centuries ago, all marked by wooden crosses within the foundation’s perimeter. And then there was the new church, the newest building in the historic Pueblo area. It was built a few short years ago in 1850. No wonder it looked pristine.
Scattered about the grounds, usually adjacent to living quarters, were small adobe ovens. It is where most of the cooking is done on feast days, events that apparently occur quite often for the people here are always celebrating life. In fact, as I looked around I noticed that all of the structures were made of adobe, a simple combination of mud and straw. I was instructed that once or twice a year everyone recoats their house to build back up what the rains have washed away. This is what gives the structures the thick solid look. They also provide shade in the summer and warmth in the winter.
As I was talking to my still-smiling tour guide I noticed one of the residents slowly walking to a nearby stream to retrieve water. I was informed that the residents still drink the water straight from the stream, it is one of the few places where the water remains pure, cold, and plentiful. She reminded me that the village not only had no plumbing, they had no electricity. We were truly standing in a time forgotten.
Beyond the condo-like Pueblo, there were a few other structures, mostly single residences. Off in the corner lie the remains of the old church, mostly outlines of a foundation, a place where 350 women and children were massacred in an invasion centuries ago, all marked by wooden crosses within the foundation’s perimeter. And then there was the new church, the newest building in the historic Pueblo area. It was built a few short years ago in 1850. No wonder it looked pristine.
Scattered about the grounds, usually adjacent to living quarters, were small adobe ovens. It is where most of the cooking is done on feast days, events that apparently occur quite often for the people here are always celebrating life. In fact, as I looked around I noticed that all of the structures were made of adobe, a simple combination of mud and straw. I was instructed that once or twice a year everyone recoats their house to build back up what the rains have washed away. This is what gives the structures the thick solid look. They also provide shade in the summer and warmth in the winter.
As I was talking to my still-smiling tour guide I noticed one of the residents slowly walking to a nearby stream to retrieve water. I was informed that the residents still drink the water straight from the stream, it is one of the few places where the water remains pure, cold, and plentiful. She reminded me that the village not only had no plumbing, they had no electricity. We were truly standing in a time forgotten.
And then I took a seat on a worn and weathered bench.
In the span of an hour I saw two divergent worlds. One, a world where time has stood still. Where the complexities of life and the advancements of the new world were available but politely declined. Where life was not only quiet but simple. A place where people were not only content, but truly happy.
Then there was the other world. Sadly, my world. A place where time never slows, rather it speeds. Where advances were not only adopted but soon brushed aside for newer advances. Rather than helping to make life simpler, they made life more complex. A place where people are rarely content, and never truly happy.
As I sat and watched the people before me, smiling as they went about their business, I couldn't help but wonder who was truly the more advanced society. To me, it was a no brainer, for the greatest advancement of all is being able to make time stand still. A place where time itself is immemorial.
In the span of an hour I saw two divergent worlds. One, a world where time has stood still. Where the complexities of life and the advancements of the new world were available but politely declined. Where life was not only quiet but simple. A place where people were not only content, but truly happy.
Then there was the other world. Sadly, my world. A place where time never slows, rather it speeds. Where advances were not only adopted but soon brushed aside for newer advances. Rather than helping to make life simpler, they made life more complex. A place where people are rarely content, and never truly happy.
As I sat and watched the people before me, smiling as they went about their business, I couldn't help but wonder who was truly the more advanced society. To me, it was a no brainer, for the greatest advancement of all is being able to make time stand still. A place where time itself is immemorial.
Lovely and thoughtful post, Daryl. I visited the Taos Pueblo once--it was winter and a light snow had fallen. One of the residents was sweeping her porch of the snow. I'll never forget that image. Simple living which I envy. Makes me think of the Amish too. They live and have lived "off the grid" forever.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if I would say that time stands still in these unique and rare communities (but I get your point!), but the people understand life at a spiritual level, a life of community, sharing, celebrating their lives in meaningful ways.
Was your tour of the actual Taos Pueblo a private one? If I ever get back up to northern New Mexico I'd love to visit again. Does only one family reside in the Taos Pueblo building?