One of the things I love about New Mexico is the culture, particularly that of the Native Americans, whose spirituality I have been fascinated with for quite some time. A couple times a year the various pueblos open their villages to the public and welcome people to share the experience of honoring their ancestors, the land, and the spirits. Tribal feast days celebrate the birth of their patron saint; each pueblo's feast day occurs on a different day throughout the year. Dances are performed and traditional food is served; smoke from juniper-burning fires fills the crisp air like incense. You are not allowed to photograph, nor make any audio or video recordings during ceremonials (there are signs everywhere reminding people of this). The feast days are not advertised other than a short listing on some of the tourism and cultural websites because the Indians do not intend their celebrations to be tourist attractions. Most of the people who come are Natives from other tribes who have been invited or have family in the pueblo. In part this is what makes the experience so special.
Today was feast day at San Ildefonso Pueblo, located just north of Santa Fe. Two different dances were performed in the north and south plazas which are divided by a huge cottonwood tree. The first one we saw was the deer dance in the north plaza; as the dancers left the kiva (where they rest between performances), they bent over and began dancing on "all-fours," holding a long stick in each hand and tapping them on the ground simultaneously with their feet. They wear traditional clothing, antler headresses, and bells attached to belts around their waists. Following the dancers was the group of drummers, who played a continuous, pulsing beat along with their chanting; the whole procession lasts about 15 minutes.
For a number of years I have had the priviledge to go to feast day at this pueblo and it has always had some personal meaning. When my mom was young there was a woman from the pueblo who came to clean her house and became good friends with my grandmother. It is always nice to know someone in the pueblo if you are going to go to their house to eat, and due to the nature of their connection the family was invited to Angelita's house on feast days. Angelita and my grandmother have since passed away, but whenever we go to the pueblo we make a point of stopping at the house which her daughter Eva now occupies. According to my mom, the house looks almost exactly the same as it did when she visited as a little girl. Eating at any of the Indians' houses is a communal, family-style activity. We wait in the living room until space opens up at the kitchen table and when we are called to eat there is set before us a plethora of traditional dishes to choose from. People are constantly coming and going so within the 20 minute time period we sat at the table, there were half a dozen different groups of people who joined us. The women also cook for the dancers and periodically take food to them while they are resting in the kivas.
I went to feast day at Jemez Pueblo for the first time back in November and had the best vegetarian tamale I think I've ever eaten, stuffed with squash, zucchini, corn, and green chile. We ended up getting the name and phone number of the woman who made them and ordered tamales and chile beans for the holidays. The two dozen tamales came in Ziploc bags and were exchanged between parked cars at a gas station off the highway close to the pueblo; exact change was given and the deal was done. The tamales and beans were so good that the week after Christmas we decided we wanted to get two dozen more. We were hesitant to call at first, but Clarice said she and the other women had started cooking Christmas Eve and would continue to cook and dance for the next 4 days; it would be no trouble at all. We ate so many tamales that we finally tired of them and a month later there are still close to a dozen more left in the freezer. If I go to feast day at Santo Domingo it is likely that we will be invited to celebrate at Clarice's home.
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