Doing What I Do Best

Life is a trip. God has put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation. To see how the whole story began click here. One of my very favorite things to do, in the whole wide world, is to talk one-on-one with folks (I am 64 years old after all, what do you expect?) Rodney is putting that to, what I hope will be, good use. He has asked me to begin to visit, establish a contact, and summarize the services, schedules, etc. of various outreach groups here in Shiprock. Some of these are religious, some are secular, and some are governmental. For the past several days, I've visited everywhere. I've been to the Boys & Girls Club and the Senior Citizens Center. I've visited the Pediatrics section of the Navajo hospital here and will be doing a small project with them very soon. I've visited the battered women's shelter and delivered lots of dolls (donated in Winston-Salem for me to bring with me) for gifts to the families there. There are 20 different families represented at the shelter right now and that fills them to capacity. There is a waiting list of women and children who have nowhere else to go to get away from an abusive life situation. I've visited the local Catholic church. They sponsor the AA meetings here. There are two meetings a week and, from what I'm told, there could be more if more leaders were available. I've wanted to visit the day care centers, including our own Methodist church run one, but they are all closed for some reason. School is out, so I don't know where the children are. I'll soon find out. What else have I done? I participated in a 'paint the town' day. Gang graffiti is a real problem here. The Shiprock Navajo Police Department sponsored a day to paint over the graffiti. I worked with about 30 - 40 other folks. Only 3 of us were not Navajos. By and large, I was either treated very nicely or ignored. Mostly, I was treated very nicely. The Navajos that I spent the day working with were curious about me, why I was here, and where I came from. It was pretty hard work and, much to my horror, I found that my hand will fit not only a paint brush, but a roller handle as well. I sure hope that word of this doesn't get out back home. I've worked very hard to protect my "I can't do anything with my hands" reputation. I'm still not sure how I got paint in my arm pit, but let me tell you, it was sure no fun getting it out. Since it turned out that I was good at painting, Rodney assumed that I was probably good with tools in general. Oops! He asked me to get together with the two men who are the most responsible for working with mission teams when they come here to Shiprock. He wants to establish an inventory of tools that we maintain here all the time; tools for every purpose that we can think of. My approach has been to begin an inventory list on paper. From there, the three of us charged with trying to build this inventory can work on what we have, what we need, and where we might be able to get it. It hasn't been all work. I've visited Mesa Verde National Park, home of some 600 pueblo dwellings in one condition or another. I've visited Durango, Colorado. Durango is a place I could grow to really love. After visiting, I described it to someone as a place where old hippies go to die, young hippies go to age, yuppies go to blossom, and tourist go to watch it all happening. Durango is undoubtedly going to be my "get away from it all and preserve your sanity" place. I've also driven to Farmington (30 miles away) to have dinner with some new friends. We had a great evening together and I believe that they will turn out to be life-long friends. This afternoon, I'm going to put out posters of a concert that will soon be held at my new church, so I had better get started. Please keep me, FCNAM, and the Navajo in your prayers. Peace and Love, Ross