Part 1: We Enter Arizona

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   The process of moving 2,000 miles away is a mind-boggling enterprise, to say the least.  Doing it with a family guarantees either gray hair or a great adventure.  We ended up with both.  The affect of culture shock alone is unbelievable.  Our family lived in Ohio, a Midwestern state full of rolling hills, stately trees, lakes and rivers, and four very discernable seasons.  We moved to Arizona, a southwestern state full of amazing vistas, wide flat lands, and basically two seasons; which could be aptly named comfortable and broiling.

   My husband left first, as his job transferred him immediately. The rest of us had six weeks to put the house up for sale, get the crayon off the walls, pack up, and drive down to meet him.  In our little SUV we piled; two boys, one baby, one dog, one mother in law, all our stuff, and me.  We had pretty much all the ingredients necessary for a veritable trip from hell;  but not only did  we survive, we had a good time doing it.

   Our first view of the state we would be calling home came as we approached the northeastern Arizona border into Navaho country.  All of a sudden the mountains are on both sides of you, bright with orange and red and cutting off the horizon in their immensity. The ever-present wind has worn them smooth and hewn formidable caverns and unique shapes.  In a hollowed-out space is a tepee and signs indicating it is a tourist trap, so naturally we stopped.  What’s the fun of traveling if you can’t play tourist?  Sitting outside was the oldest old woman I think I have ever seen, dressed in traditional Indian clothing, gumming a little cigar and hawking her unique Indian jewelry.  At least I thought it was unique, until I stopped at countless other tourist traps.  But it was beautiful work.  My four-year-old watched her with big round eyes until we got some distance away.  “Mom!” he whispered, tugging on me.  “It’s an Indian!”
“So she is,” I replied.
“No, that’s an Indian!” he whispered urgently.  I could see I had not explained enough about where we were going and who lived there.  In Ohio the closest thing these kids have seen to Indians are John Wayne movies and Cleveland baseball games.