King of the Road - October 2009
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Where Blessings Reign
Discover unexpected gifts at the Shiprock Navajo Fair
Story and Photography by Lesley S. King
As we head out to the Shiprock Navajo Fair, in northwestern New Mexico, black rainclouds clot the sky. Our plan includes seeing a parade and Native dances and wandering among food and crafts booths, but with clouds looming, we may need a blessing. Fortunately, the event centers around the Navajo Night Way Blessing, a nine-day healing ceremony held after the first frost. But in order to partake of anything—even the blessing—we first haven to get there.
This proves to be a Sisyphean task. We’re still miles from our destination when the traffic stops dead. It seems we’re among thousands of people heading to the parade and fair, and though we hit the road early, a Navajo Nation policeman informs us that “It wasn’t early enough.”
After an hour of creeping along, I pull off the road, abandon my car and mother—who can’t walk easily—and set out on foot with my camera.
My trek is richly rewarded. As the parade snakes along the main drag of Shiprock—about 30 miles west of Farmington on U.S. 64, in the Navajo Nation—it offers glimpses of the mundane and the exotic. Baton twirlers decked out in chunky turquoise necklaces lead marching bands, whose players wear moccasins. Floats filled with waving kids boast banners that read “night way blessing”; other floats display the richness of the fall harvest, which this fair also celebrates.
I meet Spencer Dan, a Navajo who has traveled here from Phoenix. “We come back home for birthdays and fairs,” he says. “I miss the cooking, the environment, the quiet here.” Surrounding him are some 50 family members, who will soon head to the fair to watch the ceremonies and enjoy the carnival.
DAY-TRIP TIPS Where to Dine: 3 Rivers Eatery & Brewhouse Where to Stay: Kokopelli's Cave B&B
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Suddenly, out of the misty air, appear the White Mountain Apache Crown Dancers, their bodies painted with pale clay and black symbols. Heads dressed with tall wooden crowns, they prance and circle to the beat of drums, while in the distance the regal, 7,178-foot volcanic neck of Ship Rock Peak stands against the horizon. In Diné, the Navajo language, the peak is called Tsé Bit’ a’í (Rock with Wings), and it holds an important place in the tribe’s mythology and tradition. According to Navajo lore, it was once a refuge from enemies. It is still held sacred today, and the Navajo Nation denies mountaineers permission to climb it.
In 1903, the town of Shiprock was born as a Navajo business center, where tribal members, who often live in extended family groups isolated from neighbors, could trade goods and get medical care. For some 80 years, the Shiprock Indian Boarding School operated here. Today the town retains a functional air, with gas stations, fast-food restaurants, and a health clinic, while its 8,200 residents live scattered across the high-desert terrain. The town serves as a good jumping-off spot for many attractions, including Four Corners Monument,Toadlena Trading Post, Aztec Ruins National Monument, Salmon Ruins, and Mesa Verde National Park, in southwestern Colorado.
When I return to the car, rain has begun to fall. My mother is smiling because the tail end of the parade passed near, and she got to see it. We merge back into the traffic—then sit again as rain gushes from the sky. For hours, we inch toward the fair. We buy some tamales from roadside vendors, along with smoky tasting ears of corn roasted in the husk.
Finally, the traffic breaks, and we arrive at the main event. The rain, however, doesn’t stop. Once again leaving my mother in the car, I don my gnarliest all-weather gear and head for the festivities. The cadence of the Diné language resonates through speakers as, despite the wet, crowds at various sites watch young people dance and sing while elders chant and pound soulful rhythms from big drums. Many Navajo wear traditional dress: Men sport black felt hats with silver concho bands, while the women wear broomstick skirts, velvet blouses, and heavy layers of silver and turquoise jewelry. In one exhibit hall, prize ribbons adorn cabbages and fry bread, weavings and baskets; in another, they hang from sheep and steers.
Following the scent of roasting meat, I duck into the shelter of a canvas booth. Here I encounter Lelia Yellowman, from nearby Kirtland, who makes mutton stew and Indian tacos: fry bread covered with chile seasoned meat, pinto beans, and cheese. The tables are full of families speaking Diné, eating, and drinking black coffee. Lelia explains that she has a lot of help with the booth: “My parents, brothers, and sisters all pitch in.”
Back at the car, I serve a feast to my mother, who is still content to watch the people come and go. I venture again into the rain for the carnival midway. I play a few games—picking yellow duckies out of water, tossing balls through holes—but unlike some of my competitors, I come away with no stuffed animal prize.
As I shiver in the cool air, I realize that I’m completely soaked. I decide to quit hopscotching from booth to booth and surrender to the rain. I step out from under the canvas shelter and stand fully in it, letting it pound down over my head, rivulets tracing along my legs into my mud-clumped shoes. Nearby, people on the carnival rides laugh. The roller coaster screeches by, drenched riders holding their hands high in celebration of their courage. Faintly, in the distance,
I hear the steady rhythm of the Night Way chant. This is New Mexico, I think, where nothing can rain on our parade—or fair—because we know that, here in the desert, the rain is our blessing.
The annual Shiprock Navajo Fair, the oldest of its kind, and usually a bright, sunny affair, takes place October 1–4. It offers ceremonies, a parade, pageants, arts and crafts, livestock exhibits, a rodeo, and native singing and dancing. For info: (505) 368-3727; www.shiprocknavajofair.org
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"King of the Road" columnist Lesley S. King visits another little-known community in New Mexico each month.
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