On the Road Again

After a whirlwind weekend of goodbyes, good meals, and poor time management, I managed to get out the door and to the airport on time. Kansas City International, where I had a layover of two hours, supplied me with endless amusement at a stream of curious (and loud) five-year-olds as well as pacing, frenetic businessmen... and the internet, so the time passed quickly. When I stepped foot off the plane in Albuquerque, however, there seemed to be a palpable change. No longer in just a slightly more twangy version of the Midwest I know and love, people seemed just as friendly, but time was slower, everyone was tanner, and everything from the decor to the cowboy hats let me know I wasn't in Wisconsin anymore. Huge, painted engravings on the wooden rafters that spanned the vaulted ceiling of the airport came into view as I galumphed awkwardly onto the escalator that took me to the baggage claim, and the entire stucco-cement walls of the airport outside sported that charming Santa Fe combination of faded terra-cotta orange and teal. If nothing else, I was entirely charmed.

One by one, I met up with four other TFA New Mexicorps members, as well as a staff member: Kimberly Heu, from Hawaii, reminded me somewhat of the Robin Takamine that Rowan and I met on our first day in Taipei; Jonathan, from San Diego, is tall, dark, and quiet, but seems charming; Christina "Christy" Cunningham is a wonderful, boisterous, red-headed lady from St. Petersburg, Florida; and Colleen Dunwell, from Boston, is absolutely lovely and seems to have had an interesting at Brown (and at a boarding high school before that). The nice lady who offered us candy and drove us in her van was Lindsey Cross, one of the first people to talk to me from Teach for America (and to friend me on Facebook, which is always important.)

It's been nice; I've already been impressed by the people with whom I'm here. The only other person in the first wave of newcompers, who didn't just graduate from college is Christy, the one from Florida. She's a mother of four, so my first impressions of her were that she talked about her daughter and sons a lot, an had a slight bit of a twang to her speech; I think, in a different situation, I might have dismissed her at that. BUT SHE'S AMAZING!! She's a mother of four, and not only knows her children very well, but also has just earned her Masters in Education and made lots of progress with the children that she worked with as a student teacher. She has a story for all of her students, and even from the little fragments of bits of stories that I got, it's obvious she met her students where they were, and worked with them to make small, manageable steps to really substantial progress. She also likes anime, video games, and has a guild on WoW -- she wanted to let her 'guildies' know that she made it here safe, as well as her family -- so I think she'll be right at home with all of us. She's incredibly personable, and I think she helped me and Colleen feel more comfortable right off the bat.

I've not had time for many other impressions, but there are some. Already I can tell it is dryer here. My nostrils and throat have started to launch little protests, letting me know that they will soon be scratchy if I don't get them back to humidity soon. (Deal with it, face. We're here now, and you're going to like it.) The landscape shows it, too; as we were landing, the mesas and mountains of the landscape were clearly visible, but much of the rest of the landscape seemed a vast expanse of light, dust brown, dotted with innumerable round bushes. In the van on the way to Gallup from the ABQ airport, the vast brown continued, through with large outcroppings of great, red rock protruding from the rolling mounds of dust and green-brown.

When we arrived in Gallup, we passed something like seven signs announcing we were along the famous Route 66, and our hotel, El Rancho, boasts a list of hundreds of stars that stayed within its quaint walls while filming Westerns. The slogan on the front reads, painted in white on a brown board that stretches the entire front of the hotel: "CHARM OF YESTERDAY ... CONVENIENCE OF TOMORROW." I don't know about the convenience bit -- I guess there is air conditioning? And wifi! -- but the charm is certainly here. The headboards of the beds are shaped like wagon wheels, and the lobby is adorned with mounted deer heads, a giant amethyst, signed pictures of stars of the silver screen that stayed here, and lots of rustic wooden and woven décor. Even the railings are the stuff of Westerns; they're made of that same rough wood that are reminiscent of olden hitching posts.

I can't wait until everything lights up with neon.

Sitting in a chair that looks like a conglomeration of used covered wagon bits and the cushions from a couch from the 70's, it seems like life might move a bit slower here, like maybe we'll take more naps here or something. Perhaps I'm mistaken, but it certainly seemed... hushed, the kind of quiet it gets when the people at whose home you're staying realize you're tired and try to make a bit less noise, and lower their voices. I bet that'll all change -- the slower and the naptime bit -- tomorrow, but, for now, I'm rather enjoying the lull. Heck, it meant time for a blog update.


But, to be honest, I'm not sure I had much to say. I left, on a jetplane. I arrived, and drove, and have observed a single place and then farted about for most of the afternoon. I have not the way with words, nor the keen observations, nor even the penchant to address whatever poor schmuck views this as "gentle (or "dear") reader" that my three known friends with blogs (Famigerate , Aidan on an Island / 'La Islaidan', and Of Ivory Towers and Holy Waters) boast, but I shall try, at the very least, to post more than two updates. Stick with me. I'm holding out for great things.