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Sunday, August 8, 2010

Farmington

Farmington from my perspective is a small town with a population of 35,000; during the weekday that count can escalate to 100,000 with all the out of town workers that spend the week here. You can Google it or look up it's stats on the web. It is heavily populated by Navajo Indians though the stats proclaim the white population is the larger.
Many of the Navajo's, both male and female, sport the long, dark, shiny hair that almost glitters when they walk into sunshine while some of them are coiffed as much as anybody that pays much attentnion to their hair style in this part of the west.

I have to say, I enjoy the look and dress of people living in the small towns here and around this area. No frills for these people; no offices to get all spruced up for. Most of them are people that work in the outdoors. BLM employees come through the lobby in their fatigues, backpacks and boots. The oil field workers dressed in jeans, boots and sporting their fire retardant symbols on those jeans and jackets. You can spot the tourists easily in their bright new sneakers and capris. They are passing through.

 A friend from the eastern side of the United States issued a request. Since her heritage is part Indian, she wanted some pictures of the Indians here.
Unless I'm in a crowd, shooting around, it's a bit obvious to heft up my camera and get a shot of a lone Navajo coming out of a store and walking on the street.
Yesterday, while entering a little cafe for lunch, I stepped to the door and grasped the handle to swing the door outward so I could enter. An elderly Navajo lady was exiting; she looked like an "extra" that you would see in a western movie.
There she stood, graying hair pulled back into a braid that hung down her back. A loose peasant like blouse fell to her thick waist and over a bright patterned skirt that is often seen on the older Indian women. A large "squash blossom turquoise" necklace hung from her neck and laid across  her ample  chest. She looked up and smiled as I held the door open for her. Her smile lacked a few teeth in the front of her mouth. I refrained from raising my camera. I thought later that maybe she would have been flattered had I asked her to pose for me. Right subject but wrong timing. I'm keeping my eye opened for another good subject to appear.
Note to my eastern friend here: Don't expect feathers and buck skinned clad Navajo. That's movie stuff, ok?

Our plans to attend the rodeo were cancelled last night. The rains poured down and the temperatures dropped into the mid 60's. Sitting in a cold rain in a rodeo didn't sound all that appealing. We went to Walmart instead.

I'm again sitting in the lobby watching all the guests here make it to the coffee and breakfast area. Usually a one night stay for these tourists and they will be some place else tonight. Most of them have jackets and sweat pants. It's chilly here in the early morning hours. 
 I'm beginning to feel like staff here. They come by and nod and smile. I'm a fixture now each morning with my laptop and my coffee placed at a table facing the television hanging on the wall broadcasting the news.

I'm doing more walking here. Steps to be climbed while investigating the ruins yesterday, and the stairs I descend from the third floor of this hotel. I don't go up stairs to the third floor. My leg is not THAT strong yet.
We don't have big plans today but there is a huge flea market on the outskirts of town that might be interesting. I hesitate on going; I am trying to rid my house of "stuff", not carry anymore "stuff" into it.
I'm off to find out what my day holds. Whatever it holds, it won't be humidity and heat and for that I'm thankful.




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