Please care…

About others and read this…

Imagine each day you wake, you live with the possibility of feeling ill. Your throat gets scratchy, your ears plug, your sinus’s have painful pressure and your eyes water. Imagine everyday feeling like you have a cold…that will never go away. Not enough? Take your right hand and with your index finger and thumb, pinch them together over your nose and hold. It’s at  this point you begin to breath through your mouth. Now, with your left hand, place your flat palm over your mouth and hold tight. Imagine the weight of a 30lb child standing on your chest in the center between your nipples. Can you feel the weight pressing? Now wait until you have to breath…until you’re actually scared…and then… don’t let go. Not enough. Dig a hole… in the ground…and place yourself in it. Let a friend cover you over with fresh, heavy earth, until there’s no light and no air. Get the picture?

Asthma facts and Statistics

Every day in America Alone:

• Every day in America Alone:
  40,000 people miss school or work due to asthma.
•  30,000 people have an asthma attack.
•  5,000 people visit the emergency room due to asthma.
•  1,000 people are admitted to the hospital due to asthma.
•  11 people die from asthma.

An estimated 20 million Americans suffer from asthma (1 in 15 Americans), and 50% of asthma cases are “allergic-asthma.” The prevalence of asthma has been increasing since the early 1980s across all age, sex and racial groups.

Multiple Chemical Sensitivity 

Chemical-based products are all around: in the clothes we wear, in the food we eat and in the air we breathe. It is not possible to escape exposure. Many people have become sensitized to the chemicals around them. It is estimated that as much as 15% of the population has become sensitized to common household and commercial products. For some people the sensitization is not too serious a problem. They may have what appears to be a minor allergy to one or more chemicals. Other people are much more seriously affected. Such people have a condition known as Multiple Chemical Sensitivity or MCS.

Symptoms of MCS 

• asthma or other breathing problems  • autoimmune disorders  • behavioral problems  • bloating or other intestinal problems  • cardiovascular irregularities  • chronic exhaustion  • disorientation or becoming “lost”  • dizziness  • dystonia (paralysis)  • eye, nose and throat problems • fatigue and depression • flu-like symptoms • food allergies and intolerances • genitourinary problems • headaches • increased sensitivity to odors • inflammation • irritability • learning disabilities • mental confusion • movement disorders • muscle weakness and joint pains • numbness and tingling in limbs • persistent infections, especially yeast  • persistent skin rashes and sores • seizure disorders • short or long term memory loss • visual disturbance

MCS may result from a single massive exposure to one or more toxic substance or repeated exposures to low doses. Some people become chemical-sensitive following a toxic chemical spill at work or in their community, or after exposure to pesticides. Or, individuals may develop this condition from spending time in a poorly ventilated building, where they breathe a combination of chemicals. MCS may be brought on by a wide array of chemicals found at home, at work, in hospitals, in parks, and at school.

Now, the next time you splash on that aftershave…or the next time you spray your body with your favorite brand of perfume…to go to work, a restaurant, a club, a sporting event, a play or concert… think about this…

Did you know that perfume is made of toxic chemicals that can injure your health? Many of the chemicals in perfume are the same chemicals in cigarette smoke, and yet there is no regulation of the fragrance industry. Many people are “bothered” by perfumes – developing headaches, sinus problems, and even asthma from exposures. Many have gotten sick or even disabled from wearing (or being exposed to) fragrances and using other scented products. And fragrances are now used in almost every cleaning, laundry, and personal-care product on the market! These chemicals go directly into the bloodstream when applied to our skin and are also absorbed into the skin from our clothing. We also inhale the chemical fumes, which then go straight to our brains where they can do major harm. Many even have a “narcotic” effect, which is why some people seem “addicted” to their perfumes.

The problem with scented products is not so much the smell itself as the chemicals that produce the smell. Nearly all scented products currently on the market are made largely or entirely of synthetic chemicals, usually derived from petroleum or coal tar. Nearly one-third of the chemical additives used in perfumes and other scented products are known to be toxic, and it’s not safe to assume that the other chemicals are safe just because they aren’t yet known to be toxic. (Keep in mind that most of the chemicals used in this country, including 90% of the pesticides, have never been tested.) And just one perfume can contain more than 500 chemicals. Expensive products are just as likely as cheap ones to contain synthetic chemicals. And words like “hypoallergenic,” “natural scent,” “floral,” and the names of various flowers don’t mean that you can trust the product under the label–they just mean that the manufacturer wants you to think that the product is safe. Even “unscented” may actually mean that a masking fragrance has been added to the product to disguise the smell of certain ingredients.

The only safe assumption about scented products is that they contain numerous toxic chemicals which constantly vaporize into the air and attach themselves to the hair, clothing, and surroundings of anyone who wears them. These chemicals are skin irritants, suffocants, eye and respiratory tract irritants, and neurotoxins. That’s why being around someone who’s wearing a scented product (or who’s wearing clothes that have picked up smells from past use of scented products) can cause an chemically sensitive person to develop obvious allergy symptoms (sneezing, coughing, watery eyes), to have an asthma attack, to develop a headache, to become dizzy or nauseous, to have trouble focusing or thinking or remembering, to experience sudden mood changes, to develop muscle cramps or spinal subluxations, or even to have a seizure or lose consciousness.

And that’s why wearing scented products isn’t just a personal choice. It’s a choice to impact the air space of others–and in ways you may not be able to predict or control. And that’s why “I’m just wearing a little!” or “It’s not perfume, it’s just my soap” are irrelevant responses. The chemicals don’t care. They don’t care how much you’re wearing or in what form you’re wearing it–they’re going to vaporize into the air around you and do their chemical thing, even if you weren’t planning to harm someone.

I don’t own these statistics and words. They belong to these wise and caring people and Foundations:

Thanks go to Roberta Rigsby, the World Asthma Foundation, the Asthma Foundation and the Chemical Sensitivity Foundation for all this great info and for trying to make the world a safe place for everyone.

Human

Many people out there are soul searching in these difficult times. I am one of them. I can’t put those feelings into words but this lovely song has done it for me. This is for all of you (and me too). Many Blessings 😉 H

Special thanks to Civil Twilight for the beautiful song “Human”, to Da Vinci, 109BC, The Voice, Media Watch, Szukalski, Tori, People’s Voice, The Telegraph, Humanity Healing, Klunavik. MNN

2010…let’s begin again

2010

As this year ends, I find myself anxious to begin the new one, like no other I can ever remember. The actually saying “2010” aloud makes me think of renewed hope, new beginnings, rebuilding, reinventing, while maintaining all I’ve learned from the past year. Some people weren’t affected by the recession but those folks are few and surely fortunate. The majority of us learned hard lessons about extravagance and living beyond our means, taking things for granted and never believing lives can change (and do) in the flash of a moment. In the past weeks, on my travels, I’ve seen and experienced the peoples will to survive under the most dire circumstances…with ingenuity, honor and dignity. I’ve seen some give when there was so little of their own left to give. My belief in the goodness of mankind has been renewed just when I began to forsake it. I find selfish strength in numbers, in mass understanding that we share these difficult times as one world. I know I am not alone in my fears.

I think, we as Americans, have long been spoiled and “over-blessed” with a multitude of unnecessary “things”… failing ourselves… our children and our neighbors on the most basic levels. We must pay more attention to loving, understanding and accepting one another than we waste on arguing our own opinions, religions and staunch beliefs. All the politically correct words in the world don’t feed those who go hungry at night nor hug the loneliest among us. We must be willing to not only listen to those suffering most but to offer our hands in ways that actually do make the difference. We need to leave behind wasted time on the unimportant fluff.  We’re just now re-learning the simplest things that make us the most happiest with the least cost to our pockets…and souls. It’s time to relinquish the cells phones long enough to breath the fresh air and see the magic that God gave us with appreciative eyes. It’s time to finally “see” the beauty and wonder around us and live our lives in simplicity.

I look back at what I’ve lost in a year…my Gallery, my job description, my uterus, the curve in my left cheek, three-quarters of our combined income, a fancy car, two mentors and one very dear friend. To that, I compare what I’ve gained…white eyebrow hairs, simplicity, fairly impressive barbeque skills, some weight, a new group of artistically gifted friends, a mysterious pirate scar, more patience, old wisdom and renewed eyes to finally see the world around me. I thought I’d be older when this epiphany happened. Maybe I just needed to be forced to choose to. I am grateful for all the winding roads that lead me to be a stronger woman, a wiser person and a better human than I ever would have been without being shown the way. Low and behold…I find I gained even from all I’ve lost.

I wish for all of you, those I’m blessed to know, those I don’t know yet and those I never will…a happy, happy New Year full of all the love and happiness you deserve, the eyes to notice it when it’s in front of you and long arms to reach out and grab it when you realize you actually can.

2010…to new beginnings.

Love Heather

Chiura Obata’s wisdom

There is a new Ken Burns documentary coming out at the end of the month about our National Parks and the people who were instrumental in saving them for generations to come… I was very lucky to have a sneak preview.

Chira Obata was one of these rare and gifted people and this particular remark (or a portion from it) hit home with me. He was speaking about Yosemite National Park.

… the coyotes howl in the distance, in the mid sky the moon is arcing, all the trees are standing here and there, and it is very quiet. You can learn from the teachings within this quietness. …Some people teach by speeches, some by talking, but I think it is important that you are taught by silence.” I, too, think you can learn a lot from silence…

Chiura Obata

The Doctor Visit

Ok, I haven’t told a story for a while…and well, today, I’ve got one. First, let me begin to tell you folks out there that still think it’s cool to have a tan, forget it. I spent my entire teen years burning…and peeling, burning and peeling, “repeat at will”… and now I’m paying for it. I now walk around with a giant black Joan Crawford hat and Chinese paper umbrellas; with SP…I don’t know…what are they up to…90? ya know…kind of vampirish.. (Not that I have any problems with vampires) Ok… that said. Preaching over.

Today was my “see the Dermatologist because you’ve had this thing on your cheek forever” visit. I actual refer to it as “My little friend” in a Scarface kind of accent. After securing a parking spot…that isn’t all that easy here in So Cal…I finally made it to room 204. When I opened the door to the office, I was greeted by a “spaciously challenged” room…maybe 9 feet wide by 10 feet long. It held a couch, a table and 4 chairs…2 facing 2 others…all shoved in with a shoehorn. There were no windows unless you call the slider door where the receptionist sits hidden with her own air… a window.

I crammed my way inside and saw a disgruntled looking 20 something guy with his equally disgruntled 20 something girlfriend sitting on the narrow couch. They were probably just mad because they now were forced to share their already limited air supply. Well, I did what any normal person would…I signed in for my 10:30 appointment, glared back and took a seat. The receptionist called me and gave me the ever-popular clipboard. It had more papers to sign than the mortgage I currently have and asked me more personal questions that my own husband has ever dared to ask.

While filling papers out, the narrow entrance door opened and in huddled an elderly lady with a large carved cane. She managed her way to the receptionist sign-in sheet and then took the second of the 4 chairs, opposite me…cane extending far into the room. Still filling out my paperwork, the door opened yet again. In came a long, lanky woman in maybe her late 50’s. She apparently was a repeat customer and had the routine down. She promptly signed and sat in the 3rd of 4 chairs, next to me. I had finished the first draft on my future life story and walked back up. It was at this time I noticed two things. One was that everyone signing in had an appointment at 10:30 and that thankfully there was a candy dish…with tootsie rolls. Well, all things considered, figuring trouble brewing, I naturally dug in, took enough to kill the pain and re-took my seat just in time to see the door open again.

In walked a very round, very tall man…with a rather large, round, pink woman behind him…and just as I thought the room couldn’t get any smaller…in came their daughter with the largest Afro I have ever seen in my life! It was at this very moment I started searching this tiny room for the hidden camera. Each person shuffled around, trying to get comfortable in a room where a family of Hobbits couldn’t get comfortable. I noticed the disgruntled guy get up and hi-tail it out into the hallway as quick as he could. He apparently thought it was “him”…or “her”…and he’d chose to save himself.. We all sat, trying not to stare at each other because there wasn’t anywhere to look…and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse…in walked a woman with a rather large incision at her throat with some very nasty looking sutures. I could feel my head spinning.

She signed, sat and stared with the rest. It was about this time my phone began to ring. It’s rather loud and I tried hard to get to it in time to turn it off. That’s when the elderly lady said “that’s a pretty song’…”who is it?”…all eyes on me. I swallowed and mumbled “Staind”. The late fiftyish woman yelled “Sting?”…. to which I had to reply “No, S-T-A-I-N-D”. “Well it’s very pretty…what’s the title?” she asked. I had to tell her “It’s been a while”…, to which I will not repeat the conversations of confusion that title lead to about my “remembering” but will tell you that Afro kid had a big smirk on her face, waiting to see how I’d get out of it. She and I were the only ones to know that the “Pretty song” was written by a recovered heroine addict confessing his life’s low moments…complete with profanity.

In my silence, the rather large, pink, round woman decided to ask each person his or her reason for being there at this momentous moment in time. I was treated to horrific scars, office treatments, surgery stories, chemo advise and just…just as they got to me…an angel with bright blue eyes and a pixie grin opened the second door and yelled “Heather”. I have never in my life catapulted across a room as if shot from a cannon…but I did then. I kissed her hand and said “THANK GOD YOU CAME FOR ME…!” I think she might have even understood.

I was then settled into a room of quite lovely, Zen like, decor. The designer, no doubt, had at one time been left in the waiting room and felt some form of moral responsibility to those who “made it through” boot camp lobby. I found it interesting that a dermatologist has the same type of bed thing you’re supposed to hop up on. The angel asked me the routine questions, “What are you allergic to”…oh so innocently. My smile confirmed she had hit the jackpot. Upon completion I sat there re-living, in my mind, the stories I had just heard in the Hobbit cave until the Doctor walked in and looked at me over her glasses. She questioned me rather bluntly about “my little friend”…”How long?”….“Um, well, a while”…quite a while”… No eye contact. To which she said “Are we talking years?… Hummmmmm…

She put her rather large glass over me with its rather bright light and pulled and prodded my cheek. She pulled her glasses upright and said “We can go about this one of 2 ways”…”I can give you a topical cream and we can try it for 3 weeks…or we can biopsy now…. which could leave a scar”. Now I knew damn well she thought I’d pick the cream being a woman. I replied, “Well, you know… I’ve always looked kinda innocent…let’s chance the scar!”… And finally, a smile. She then did her thing, finally presenting my cheek with a very un-fashionable band aid that could not be more noticeable if it were hot pink and I left with a “thank you very much” getting the hell out. I actually ran the 3 steps I needed to pass the waiting room.

I returned to work and promptly told the boys I was happy to have “Shaved off” a little weight and that I had now provided them with a target for all those rubber bands. My first comment, from a friend was…”Oh, Nice look”… I expected no less…

When I got home I promptly went to the store in search of the “cool band aids”. I had a choice of “Nascar” or “Hello Kitttie”…neither of which suits me. I was looking for a scull with crossbones but selected “Hello Kittie” because I figure I can draw fangs on her…

And, when I return to the Doc’s office, I think I’ll get some use out of my old lawn chair and sit in the hallway until they call… 😉

June 5th

If you are going through hell… keep going.
Winston Churchill

I need anyone and everyone that reads my blog (and those who just happened upon it) to get up on Thursday and simply say “Keep going”. I believe in Karma and the power of positive energy sent from others…even when they don’t know why. I promise to write an “Erma Bombeck” explanation in exchange for those blindly given positive thoughts.

June 5th Folks. Please remember…It’s important.

Day 3

Well, you remember that instant Karma thing? Karma works in mysterious ways…I believe in Karma…even if I don’t always get to see the end result…And, it’s not always instant…but in this case, humph!

Today “Previous Tenant A” finally deemed me worthy enough to call back. I now know the number and recognised it at a glance. Did I answer it. Good Grief…NO. That’s what Husbands are for! To take over with negotiations when things deteriorate to another level… not on this woman’s radar. There are fewer words involved between men…but lots of meaning behind them.

I called Mike. Mike called him and by noon “Previous Tenant A” was packing his belongings (or rather his belongings that we packed for him) into a truck and handing over 350.00 dollars. It appears he went “camping” . Naturally one would go “Camping” the actual day you’re supposed to move… I’m sure it’s in the tenant manual under selfish, cement headed idiots. I’m certain there is a Political position just waiting for this guy. Maybe a Senator or something?

He didn’t answer my 19 phones calls over a period of 8 days that ranged from really very sweet and charming… to somewhat peeved… to completely and totally… really pissed off. My Family and Friends will both attest that the third is a very rare thing in me…but when it happens, it takes care of everything that’s built up for years… So I’m good for quite some time 😉

Tonight I will meet with the Carpenter, the Electrician, the Painter and Drywall Guy. Hey, why not attack it full force…I’m 10 days behind. Just for fun, I told them to all show up at 6:30pm. I probably should serve refreshments as this will be my first impromptu party…but chairs might actually be even better! Heck, their all younger than me…they can stand!

Sadly, I was just beginning to develop a close personal friendship with all those water bottles…

This week’s lesson

What a week! Today is March 8th and I finally just got into my new studio. I learned a very valuable lesson about people and business this week. I learned to not trust and to get things in writing. I met my landlord about 2 months ago when I signed my rental agreement. I paid 3 months in advance and he told me the previous tenant would be out by the 1st…no later than the 3rd…and that he would take care and adjust my rent if it ended up the 3rd. Sounded good to me. Now I have, from time to time, popped into the building to measure this and recheck that and have even brought people with me to make some drawings. There are 2 guys, one being the actual tenant and one being his longtime friend, councilor and CPA. These guys are Mormons and both were very nice to me when I initially met them. Then, most of time I re-visited, it would just be the CPA guy there working away, trying to fix the other guy’s financials (because he was losing his business). I grew to really like this guy. He used to work a very unhappy 9 to 5 job (which I understood) and he was humble and sweet. He gave me some brief financial business advise and I designed him a new logo (for his new self employment), printed him some business cards and brought him cookies That I mercifully didn’t make).

On the 29th of February, a long awaited leap year, I showed up at the building, peeked my head in and yelled hello. They were both there on this occasion…along with all the furniture, desks, computers, files and gigantic tv . Nothing had been moved, boxed or organized. I asked what was up and they both said” Is this the end of the month already?” ALARM BELLS GOING OFF IN MY HEAD. Yes, yes it is. That’s when the tenant spoke up and said Oh, we’ll be out of here by the 3rd, no worry. Well, I wasn’t going panic because I had heard that it could be the 3rd. Sadly, I wouldn’t have that weekend to clean. I left after a brief, friendly conversation with the CPA guy, who at that time felt bad and actually gave me his own key. He walked me down to the mailbox to show me where it was while I asked him how his buddy was doing. I’m a nice person, I wanted to be sensitive to the guy losing his business. He had after-all, done alot of work to the room I would soon occupy…I didn’t want to rub salt into the wound.

I left and everyday, I would drive by. This guy has about 50 cases of bottled water on the patio outside the office and I knew when I didn’t see them, he would be gone. I at one time asked him if he was taking it with him (he had gotten it free from the beach games they have in the summer where vendors pass it out). I told him that it could be donated to the Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts but he said he would be leaving with it and I dropped it after that. So I drove by on the second…still water bottles, the 3rd…still water bottles and on the forth day I finally called him. No answer. Later that day he called to say that the guy buying his furniture had not come to get it so he needed to stay until the 5th. It was at this point that I said I would have to call the landlord because he needed to adjust my rent.

Now you must keep in mind…this tenant guy called me on the phone once to warn me that after I had already verbally told the landlord I would take the office, he showed someone else the space…the tenant said “you seem like a nice lady, I just want you to know that this happened. My husband told me to calm down and that the landlord was just covering his rear, in case I backed out because I hadn’t actually signed the contract, just verbally said yes. It wasn’t my deal that the contract hadn’t been signed. It was the landlord’s not coming down with a contract for me to actually sign. He said, no worry.

Anyway, back to why I was willing to trust the tenant. It was because of this call of warning. I felt he was looking after me knowing all the plans I was making and times I had visited with his buddy to measure something. So when I said I needed to call the landlord to tell him…the tenant said no, no need to bother him…I’ll just pay you. I did not want to do this. Everything in me told me no. But that call… I really had no choice when he said the 5th because none of his stuff was gone yet and I couldn’t very well carry it out myself.

Well you guessed it. The 5th came and went and no phone calls to say, I’ll come give you the keys to the space and the bathrooms. I drove by and yes, same lovely water bottles. On the 6th I drove over before work..and low and behold…a moving van!. I went to work happy, knowing this would all be over. No phone call came that evening so I called him. No answer. Tried the next day..same water bottles and same no answer…and no returned calls.

Friday after work and after calling him 2 more times, I went over and let myself in. I saw the tenant’s desks and files and immediately left making sure another 2 tenants saw me leave quickly and with nothing that did not belong to me. I called the landlord. I told him the situation. That his tenant just would not leave and that I didn’t know him, didn’t want to be involved and just wanted him to know that I still had not been able to move in.

Now this is where it gets really good. The landlord told me that once I gave the not-leaving tenant an ok to stay (which I didn’t really, I just never had a choice) and that he had an agreement to pay me, it was my problem to get him out. He said I had a key to let myself in and that I could have asked him to get out and that he (being the landlord had nothing to do with it). His contract was now only with me!

I will give him that one credit. He was right when he said I did not call him on the first and tell him. I didn’t and I didn’t because he told me himself it could be until the 3rd! I was so dumbfounded at this point I know I was yelling into the phone. I simply could not believe what I was being told. That it was my space, the contract was for the 1st and I should have moved in. If I didn’t want the space, I didn’t have to take it and that he would rent it to someone else. I explained that I would never move into a building that had someone else’s belongings inside and he said, well, you should have because it was yours to move into! My contract with him ended and mine began with yours. At this point I decided I was dealing with at least 2 lunatics and started to really wonder if it was all going to be worth it. I got in my car and drove to another building that had just come up for lease, called and was told how much…too much…and too much work.

A friend of mine accidentally called my number and while on the phone, I needed an ear and vented my story. It was at this point he “hostage negotiated” me into calmness. He said to go to the building, change the locks and pack the guys sh– up. He actually told me to toss it onto the parking lot but I’m just not that person (in this life anyway). I called the tenant again. No answer. Then, while talking on the phone to my husband, or rather yelling into the phone with frustration…the idiot chose to call and leave a message. My guess was the landlord called him (and threatened him) and magically he called me back to leave a freaking voice-mail. I immediately called back and you can guess…no answer. I drove over to the building, opened the door for the second time with the key his friend had given me and stood in the space. The tenant’s desks were still there, office junk, computer stuff and many (what looked to me) important personal files… But in those few minutes I allowed myself to walk and really look at the room, a calm came over me. I looked at the space…really looked at it. I knew it was meant for me…even if I almost allowed 2 complete assholes to destroy a dream for me.

I went home and called a locksmith. 😉 At this point I had my husband step in. He was actually working this weekend but he made the call to the tenant warning him that the locks would be changed at 5pm and that he had better get his stuff out and also bring me 8 days of rent…in cash. I waited all day at home for him to call or show up. At 5pm I went to the building and yes, the water bottles, desks and all the other were still there…no call. I hoped at this point the guy was in jail…and couldn’t call. I had the locks changed and never once was I worried about the tenant showing up. I had told the locksmith my dilemma and that I was a bit leery about the guy, knowing changing the locks would piss him off. The locksmith smiled, told me he was one of 5 brothers, all from Israel…Military trained in Special Forces…and I had not a reason in the world to worry. How lovely it was that he came (or was sent to me). And that, my dear readers, was the first laugh I had in 3 days…

Later, my husband and brother-in-law came and we packed all the tenants crap up. I had to talk them out of throwing it into the dumpster…because I really want to dump it on his front lawn…and I will!

After everything was packed, the floors were swept and I looked at the room and I was finally happy. I will, from now on, mail my rent to the landlord without further communication, unless he begins it. He has a job so I doubt I will hear much more from him as long as he can smell his dear old money. As far as the tenant, I will have no further dealing with him..and sadly, nor his friend. One will forever be part of the other’s sins in my memory. This guy was going to be my new CPA but who in their right mind would trust a friend of a jerk with their personal information? Not this gal.

So, if any of you out there ever decide to begin a business of your own, where you are involved in a lease and another previous tenant, be wiser that me. Don’t trust anyone. Get it in writing…because if you behave kindly, you will be run over flatter than a cd! I’m keeping the space because I know this was my test. I know most landlords are probably like Cinderella’s wicked stepmother anyway and that the worst is over. I know that once they have their money, their interest in your problems is harder to find than comfortable heels… so be ready to fend for yourself. I believe very strongly in Karma. So Adam and Alex, watch your heads…because something is coming for you…and I hope you feel it…hard.

But now it’s time for the Artists to have their day. Now is the time to build! 😉

Great Quote

Acoma Pueblo

About Acoma Pueblo (Via New Mexico Tourism Info)
Acoma Pueblo is popularly known as Sky City. It was built on top of a 357-foot sandstone mesa many hundreds of years ago for strategic defense against raiders. Spanish conquerors learned the hard way of this defensive stronghold when they entered New Mexico in the 1500s. Acomans claim that their 70-acre village is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the United States.
The pueblo was nearly destroyed when Gov. Juan de Oñate and 70 of his men retaliated for the killing of 13 Spanish soldiers who were hurled off the side of the cliff by warriors when they tried to take grain from the pueblo storehouses in 1598. The San Estéban del Rey Mission was built by the Acomas in 1629 and completed in 1640 under the guidance of Friar Juan Ramírez. Both mission and pueblo have been designated as Registered National Historical Landmarks.

Fewer than 50 Acomans live in Sky City year-round today with the rest living in nearby villages. Throughout the year all the Acomans gather on the mesatop to observe their cultural and social calendar. Census 2000 figures indicated a total of close to 3,000 Acoma villagers.

From my view: We arrived at one of the most beautiful Visitor’s centers that I believe I have ever seen. It included a wonderful gift shop filled with locally made items, a restaurant with fabulous hand made fruit pies (yes, I did), a museum and (thank goodness), a small bus to take us the almost 400 feet up the side of the plateau. We were greeted by so many kind, helpful people…beaming with pride. I loved it the moment we arrived. We met our guide (about 6 of us) and ventured up the hill. We were given an old blessing and started on our way. Along the tour, some of the Acomans came out to greet us and show their hand made pottery. It was a great way to have a conversation and for them to make a small amount of cash. I hadn’t purchased anything until our guide called out to his Auntie. How could I refuse an Auntie (being one)? I asked Auntie about her life at the Pueblo and she old me in all her 70 odd years, she had only left once, to go to University. She studied teaching and returned to her people to pass that education on.

I would like you to know that these people have no running water, nor electricity…and it gets mighty cold way up at that plateau. Their water comes from natural pools they’ve created around the village and fill by lugging water up from a stream. But, the sheer peacefulness and the haunting beauty make it a place that even I, a 2 shower a day woman, could get used to. I’d be bringing my water home in a pail but I could do it.

I saw 2 dogs along the paths. One was a very dark brown with totally black eyes. The other was snow white with solid white eyes. I was very startled because I had never seen anything like them before. They looked like dingos. They were magical, I decided, because they were so free. Our guide told us (while inside their chapel) to rub our hands upon the earth floor…and to place them over a portion of our body…and to ask for a small prayer. I did and felt honored in doing so. I loved the adobe buildings and especially all the the ladders. They were everywhere, leading to secret places and unknown things. More magic maybe? It was so wonderful to see a place so old, yet still well cared for. So many important things are gone and long forgotten. The Acomans are proud. They should be.

I remember, as we waited for our ride down, our guide told us the world’s people used to respect each other for their differences. They learned from those differences. Now the world needs prisons because the people have no pride. A plain truth from a man that called me Sister…and upon farewell…wished me happiness in my life.