We were in four states over the last three days– New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona and Utah.
That meant lots and lots and lots of driving, but we got to visit the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley. Breathtaking scenery! 
Every day is considered sacred in Navajo culture. Because each day is holy, we ought to carry with us a spirit of reverence and gratitude. There is no compartmentalizing life– all of life is spiritual and sacred.
As a Christian, I’m more aware of how “holy” or “unholy” my actions and intentions are on Sundays. I guess this is natural, because Sunday is the day set aside specially for God.
I believe that most Christians– myself included– have much to learn from Navajo culture. It’s flawed to view life as comprised of two mutually exclusive “arenas,” the secular and the spiritual. Work is sacred, family is sacred, education is sacred, relationships are sacred.
“We judge others according to their actions, but we judge ourselves according to our intentions.” – Unknown
We Duke students here in the Navajo Nation know that we’re blessed. We have electricity and running water in our homes (many people here rely on very unreliable solar energy and have to haul water from miles away), and we’ve not come close to experiencing poverty.
Since we’re here for two months to “serve the community,” it’s only natural that we might be viewed as privileged outsiders who are somewhat patronizing in our desire to “help.”
Case in point: a couple of days ago a woman saw me pouring a bag of trail mix into my mouth, and I later found out that she viewed this act as quintessential spoiled brat behavior.
She saw trail mix as a luxury food, and by pouring it into my mouth I was demonstrating just how entitled I felt to such extravagance– especially because I was pouring it instead of eating it out of my hand.
But I was actually pouring it because my hands were dirty and I didn’t want to contaminate the trail mix.
How true: we judge others according to their actions, but we judge ourselves according to our intentions.
I don’t blame her for judging me (although I was pretty shocked at first), because I recognize that we all have different paradigms through which we understand the world. In fact, this episode is a reminder for me to be more aware of how my behavior is perceived, and how my actions impact the relationships we have with the Navajo community.
We’re conducting our college prep summer classes for high school students in Diné College, a two-year community college in Crownpoint, New Mexico.
I recently read about Diné College’s educational philosophy:
Shitsijí hózhoo doo naashá: With beauty before me, I walk.
Shikéédéé hózhoo doo naashá: With beauty behind me, I walk.
Shiyaagi hózhoo doo naashá: With beauty below me, I walk.
Shík’igi hózhoo doo naashá: With beauty above me, I walk.
Shinaagi hózhoo doo naashá: With beauty around me, I walk.
Shinaagi hózhoo doo naasháShizaad hahóóshoo doo: With beauty I speak.
Sa’ah Naaghí’ Bik’eh Hozhó nishlíí doo k’é: Through this I will have knowledge, balance and strength.
- I will make short- and long-term plans as I complete my education.
- I understand my heritage and what it means to be Navajo.
- I respect all of nature.
- I am aware of the sacredness of the universe.
- I understand my surroundings from both a spiritual and factual perspective.
- I communicate effectively in both Navajo and English. The Navajo language is our strength; without it we cannot be secure as a nation.
- I contribute to both Navajo and Western culture, without compromising either one.
Diné College is a small college– it has three classrooms and there are about ten students in each graduating class– but I think it has a big educational philosophy.
We spent a whole day at a sheep farm in Crystal, New Mexico. Here’s a picture of the sheep running out of the corral when we opened the gate (we let them out so that they could graze).
The funny– and slightly annoying– thing was that we spent the next two hours looking for them, but they were nowhere to be found. They eventually came back to the corral on their own before the sun went down– a fairly common occurrence, according to the owner of the farm.
We also got to play with some cute puppies (There are 20 dogs on the farm!)
Today, I attended a talk on basket weaving. Baskets are often used for ceremonial purposes, and they are considered sacred objects.
The intricate patterns symbolize significant events and places in Navajo history, and basketry is way of re-telling the story of the Navajo people.
Basketry is hard work– a large one can take up to two months to make!
One interesting fact I learned is that the weaving is always done in a counterclockwise direction, except for baskets used in pregnancy ceremonies.
In Navajo culture, doing things in a counterclockwise direction is a reminder that life is challenging and difficult, but that every day is a fresh opportunity to learn and grow.
Doing things in a clockwise direction, on the other hand, represents a prayer for things to go according to plan– which is why baskets used in pregnancy ceremonies are woven clockwise.
It’s great when life is comfortable and easy, but Navajo basketry teaches us that learning and growth are the true jewels that we ought to seek after.
I just learned that the Navajo have a special ceremony to commemorate the first time a baby laughs. Awesome
According to Navajo (or Diné) tradition, a baby is considered to be of two worlds at birth: that of the holy people and that of the earth people. As weeks pass, adults wait and listen for the child’s first chuckle — a sign of joy that signals his desire to join his earth family and community. In Navajo culture, it is believed that a child assumes the qualities of the person who witnesses, or coaxes, his first giggle. (So it might be wise to keep your less noble relations away!)
To commemorate this event, the laugh witness hosts an A’wee Chi’deedloh (”The Baby Laughed”) ceremony. Guests, often bearing gifts, file past the infant with plates full of food. With help from the host, the baby holds out salt crystals for each of them. Placed on the food or tongue, the salt is meant to rejuvenate the good character in each recipient and serve as the first in a lifetime of generous acts by the child.
At the meal’s end, either the host or a community or family elder blesses the baby, wishing him a life of generosity and gratitude.
(http://wondertime.go.com/learning/article/navajo-baby-laugh.html)
This is a picture I took on top of a mesa in Crownpoint, New Mexico.
In my mind, the tattered American flag with the New Mexico desert in the background represents the state of affairs in the Navajo Nation.
The Navajo people are, in many ways, torn between the traditional and the modern, the spiritual and the secular, the terrible past and the uncertain future. As I mentioned in my previous post, the Navajo Nation faces many problems, and in some regards is a third-world country within a first-world one– which is why the flag seems like a fitting description of the situation.
From what I’ve observed over the past five days, things look extremely bleak.
However, I’m reminded of a speech by novelist Chimamanda Adichie entitled “The danger of a single story.”
We all have a “single story”– an overarching impression or belief that we assume to be correct– about cultures, religions, countries, people. But reality is often complex and steeped in nuances, and no single story ever does justice to truth.
My single story of the Navajo Nation, at present, is that its past is broken, its present is painful, and its future is grim– yet I know that this is not the entire story.
I will keep an open mind over the next 7 weeks as I seek to understand the story better, so that I can– hopefully– write a meaningful paragraph or two of this unfinished story.
I spent the past week hanging out with an amazing couple, Cheehoi and Tanleng, in Salt Lake City, Utah.
They are in SLC pursuing their PhDs in biomechanics and sport pedagogy, respectively. They are also extremely passionate about– and good at– rock climbing.
I watched them bouldering, and they were trying to find a good place for their initial foothold.
After some meticulous inspection, Cheehoi noticed a rock crystal protruding from the surface of the boulder. It was smaller than a kernel of corn.
“Here’s a good foothold!” Cheehoi exclaimed.
Here’s a good foothold!? An ant would have trouble balancing on that crystal!
Thinking about it, however, I realized that fulfilling our dreams is a lot like this. We often only get a glimmer, whether it’s a thought, an idea, a speech, or an inspiring conversation– that tiny rock crystal. But if we’re aware of the “crystals” available to us, and if we’re prepared to put in the effort to make use of those crystals to scale the boulder, we will make progress in realizing our dreams.
It’s too easy to overlook the crystals in our lives, and it’s even easier to see them and decide that they’re not big enough to serve as footholds.
What crystals are available to you today?
Next week I’ll be starting an 8-week service project in the Navajo Nation (in Crownpoint, New Mexico). The Navajo Nation is the largest Native American homeland in the US.
I’ll be part of a 7-person team that’s going to run a college preparation summer camp targeted at Navajo high school students.
As part of the training before we leave for Crownpoint, we’ve been told repeatedly what answer we ought to give when the Navajo people ask us what we are doing in Crownpoint for 8 weeks: We are here to learn about Navajo culture and tradition.
Now, this isn’t the first response that would come to mind. My instinctive reply would be something like “We’re here to run a college prep camp.”
To put things in context, in the last couple of centuries the Navajo have been severely mistreated. They’ve been forced out of their homeland, they’ve been imprisoned for no apparent reason, they’ve had their livestock killed. Today, there’s uranium dust in their water supply (because of the uranium mining during the arms race with the Soviet Union after World War 2), and they face problems such as unemployment, diabetes, and high incidences of some types of cancer.
So it’s understandable that the Navajo are somewhat mistrustful of “outsiders.”
Many groups go to the Navajo Nation to perform short-term volunteer work (lasting about a week or so), but it is extremely rare for groups to stay long enough to really understand their history and culture.
That explains why the “model” answer we’re supposed to give is “We are here to learn about Navajo culture and tradition.”
Being understood is a basic human need, and we all want to be understood before we want to be helped– even if we really do need help.
On another note, this is a pretty soul-stirring speech about the difference between serving, helping and fixing.
“Helping incurs debt. When you help someone they owe you one. But serving, like healing, is mutual. There is no debt. I am as served as the person I am serving. When I help I have a feeling of satisfaction. When I serve I have a feeling of gratitude. These are very different things.
Serving is also different from fixing. When I fix a person I perceive them as broken, and their brokenness requires me to act. When I fix I do not see the wholeness in the other person or trust the integrity of the life in them. When I serve I see and trust that wholeness. It is what I am responding to and collaborating with.
There is distance between ourselves and whatever or whomever we are fixing. Fixing is a form of judgment. All judgment creates distance, a disconnection, an experience of difference. In fixing there is an inequality of expertise that can easily become a moral distance. We cannot serve at a distance. We can only serve that to which we are profoundly connected, that which we are willing to touch. This is Mother Teresa’s basic message. We serve life not because it is broken but because it is holy.”
May I keep this beautiful message close to my heart as I seek to serve life over the next 8 weeks.