Ceremonial Basket case in Twin Rocks Trading Post
Aside from being extremely funny, Vincent is interesting because he pokes fun at his people by speaking in the pigeon English that we white folks enjoy so much, but are afraid to use lest we appear bigoted. I think we worry more about that issue than our Navajo friends. Many of our artists tease Barry and me in Navajo-English whenever they bring in their art, seemingly unaware of the swirling controversy.
To Vincent, and many other Navajo people, the trading post experience seems almost mystical. I have often heard older Navajo men and women talk about going to the local post with their parents or grandparents, standing on the wood floors of the “bull pin”and looking longingly at the many desirable items displayed on the shelves or in the counters. They remember the old days, when travel was difficult, and trading posts stocked all the necessities like flour, lard, canned peaches, coffee, saddles, tack and, most importantly, candy.
Sometimes I think there may even be a little of that old fashioned trading post magic associated with Twin Rocks, since we often have Navajo families come in and browse for long periods of time. During their visits, the Navajo people almost always stop to admire the ceremonial baskets; the ones still used for healing or wedding ceremonies. The adults inspect each weaving, bending them just a little to make sure they are stiff and well woven, smelling their pungent aroma, pointing out certain stitches and discussing the makers. There seems to be a certain protocol, since the inspection procedure is almost universal.
Once in a while the visitors will reach into their pocketbooks and pull out a crisp bill or two to purchase a basket. This exchange requires slow and deliberate movements, as though it is part of a sacred ceremony. First, the wallet is carefully removed from the pocket or purse. Next the billfold is unfolded or unbuttoned, and the owner peers inside the open compartment; apparently not finding the desired item. What they are looking for is often hidden away in a secret location; set aside for just such an occasion. (From time to time the item is secreted in an place other than a wallet that makes Barry and me blush and turn away.) When located, the neatly folded bills are cautiously extracted, revealing creases that indicate the money may have been hidden a long time. Then the notes are carefully unfolded, scanned to ensure the correct denominations and gingerly handed over to complete the transaction.
Last weekend, a Navajo couple and their two young daughters wandered into the trading post. Since it was Saturday morning, and since they were obviously in no hurry to get anywhere, I mentally adjusted for a long visit. After a time, the parents discovered the ceremonial baskets and the ritual inspection process began. The girls decided reading was more interesting than baskets, and parked themselves in front of the book display. As they thumbed through various publications, I heard the younger child ask the older girl, “Is that our home?”
When I looked over the counter to see what they were reading, I was surprised by what I saw; it was a book with a picture of the Grand Canyon on the cover, and the photograph was a shot looking down into the canyon from the top. There was not a house, mobile home or hogan to be found anywhere in the picture. The little girl obviously had a broad and unique concept of where she lived; she was a child of the land, not bounded by four walls.
The Navajo perspective never ceases to amaze and confound me. It has led me to the conclusion that if there is indeed magic at this trading post, it is the magic of these Navajo people and this red land in which we live, not the structure or its contents
Copyright©2004 Twin Rocks Trading Post
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