Cracked, Caked, Red Caliche

The ship has finally landed. I am in NM unpacked and settled into what will be my comfy new home for the next two months. So far the community that has taken us in has been more than their share of kind and we have found very little to trouble us, but our own inadequacies. It seems that the heat takes a special effect here, brings a strange, greater understand and accepting of the human condition. The heat here is manifested through every medium it touches. The colors of the buildings: bright orange, Las Cruces purple, and the cool aqua clash as a display magnificently coordinated against the scorching sun. The pueblo houses force even the strangest of homes to feel awfully familiar. The cozyness and homely feelings, that for any northeasterner is intially met with a truckload of suspicion and a drop of hope, can bring any capitalist to his knees. It is a town of soul searchers, starving artists and retirees settling to find their lost days buried within the cracks of the caked, red mud.

History is embedded in every story, brick, house and dust particle of the city. It seems at times you may even be able to detect the smell of it in the musty after-showers air. As anything good that occurs rarely, rain is attuned to birthdays in value and it is not a suprise it had such a unique and seductive smell. it seems Zev and I have brought the rains down with us and 24 hours since our arrival the first rain since October has fallen. Tomorrow is my first day at work and I plan to wake up to review my spanish prior to leaving. I pray that all goes well and that I go forth with the confidence and conviction I slipped in my pocket prior to departure.

Originally written May 21, 2009