Thursday, January 9, 2014

A Little Ill

Over the course of the years and in my various travels, I have eaten some odd things: bugs in Mexico, kangaroo and octopus in Australia, horse in Poland, and very recently, whale at a party I hosted. I generally refuse to ask what I am eating until after I have already consumed it. Chances are it will taste good if I don't approach it with any preconceived notions. Most often it works out (I didn't really care for the whale).  I simply do not believe in babying my GI tract.  But sometimes my stomach revolts, and I pay at some length for the violence I do to it. Such was the case yesterday.  

Rumblings began as we were finishing lunch. I refused to be cowtowed by a stomach whining about only slightly hot chili sause. I retaliated by drinking a glass of coke. Before long, however, it was clear that I was going to need to beat a hasty retreat back at the condo. 

This, it turns out, was to be simply a shot across the bow(el?). By Thursday, I was miserable. I have not felt so badly in a very long time. I put on a brave face as we drove north from Santa Fe towards Los Alamos to Bandelier National Monument. 

The drive itself, aside from the crippling fear of soiling myself, was gorgeous. Mountains are not really my thing, but the cedar covered ranges made for astounding scenery. At a certain point, we passed the entry to the national laboratory where Einstein worked with the Manhatten Project. And then we made our way down a deep valley in which we would be introduced to about 1600 years of American history. 

The monument is located in an area that in ancient times was covered in a rock made from densely packed volcanic ash called tuf. The tuf looks much like sandstone, and erodes at least as easily. As the elements did their work, the walls of the canyon became pitted with holes. Centuries later, the ancesters of the Pueblo Indians would come to this valley and build homes in the tuf as well. Some build home in the easily excavated valley floor and covered the tops with mud. Some made homes directly into the sheer walls of the canyon. They were drawn there by abundant wildlife, fresh water, and fertile soil for corn. It is unknown why they eventually left, but the area was already abandoned when the Spanish arrived. 

Mom and I explored the valley for an hour or so, and then needing the bathroom, headed back toward the visitor center. On the way Mom tripped and took a spill, scraped up her knee, and rendered her a cripple. We made quite a pair. 

With my stomach still in revolt and Mom bleeding through the knee of her jeans, we decided we had better go home. We made it there without incident, and we stayed there the rest of the day. After lots of sleep and attempts at rehydration, I felt a good deal better this morning when we left to find a Walmart so we could better bandage Mom's knee, and then to the local Cathedral. 

The Cathedral of St. Francis is currently in its fifth instanciation on the current site. Originally an adobe church, it is now a large brick structure in historic Santa Fe. One enters through two enormous bronze doors. The inside is marked by a curious combination of old and new, European and Indigenous. The windows are old traditional stained glass, the stations of the cross a more modern and indigenous style. The sanctuary has a large reardos featuring saints from the new world. Beneath the sanctuary the graves of many of the Archbishops of Santa Fe. In a chapel to the left of the sanctuary, the faithful are encouraged to venerate Our Lady of the Conquest. The statue therein is the oldest carving of Our Lady in the United States. 

We spent time there to pray and then did a little shopping and wandering. The gem we found today was a little photography gallery featuring a number of pieces by Ansel Adams. By the time we were done there we were both running out of steam. We headed home for a nap, and I am pleased to report that I now appear to be fully returned to health and will shortly be going out to take vengeance on my treacherous bowels. 

Tomorrow we head for home. We haven't decided if this will be a one day or two day trip. If we see anything interesting on the way, I will be sure to let you know.  

1 comment:

  1. On my one trip to Santa Fe a few years back I attended an early Spanish Mass at the Cathedral on Sunday morning before catching the shuttle to Albuquerque for my flight home. It was very lovely as I recall. Someday, I will have to recount for you my story of a visit to a Santa Fe jewelry store that also sold exquisite icons. Quite humorous, especially if told over a pint of ale. Till then...


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