Dirt Roads and Taos Sunsets: How "Their" Backyard Became "Ours…"
By Lauren Frinkman (CC ’08), from La Tertulia. Fall, 2007
Lauren in the field. Photo by Maria Varela
It was the same for all of us. After a couple of years at Colorado College, we were in tune with the Colorado College rhythm, which includes falling in love with classes, learning new languages, and staying far busier than any sane person should. However, parallel with our typical yet delectable college experience, I discovered a surprising perspective on my origins. Perhaps due solely to teenage ignorance of my own surroundings, I was never particularly attached to or fond of my home state, New Mexico. I viewed New Mexico as a poor, behind-the-times, forgotten frontier that had yet to become part of conventional civilization. Imagine my surprise when suddenly I was answering questions about my Hispanic background and my Native American heritage. Like all young folks, I had no idea the attraction of where I was from until I left.
In the summer of 2007, two other CC students and I were awarded a summer research fellowship in the Southwest Studies Regional Research Initiative Program: Ruth Domrzalski (CC ’08), and Byron Hurlbut (CC ’09). We were not outsiders doing fieldwork in a foreign land; we were all native New Mexicans. Our summer in Taos, as Southwest Studies Research Fellows, did more to shape our appreciation of our own origins than any of us could have expected.
As it turned out, this summer fellowship was unlike any other venture CC usually supports, in the sense that one did not write a paper at the end, or receive academic credit. One did not even have to have an applicable major, which in our case was good, as I am majoring in Religion, Ruth in Philosophy, and Byron in Political Science. Southwest Studies chose communities involved with community based research which equates to research questions that originate within the community, the results of which remain with the community. Our job was to formulate a survey around a research question on a topic the community was concerned with, conduct the survey within the community, and report the results to the community at the end of the summer. All of the data belonged to the community. We can’t use it for potential papers in the future without permission.
In the spring semester, we went through a series of trainings covering background information on Taos and some material on research methods. Even after several orientations with our faculty advisors on campus and a visit to Taos to be briefed by our community hosts, the reality of what “community based research” was still escaped us. All we knew was that we were to receive a stipend, to be given a place to live, and something to do other than a service job. We figured we would discover the rest of the details later and just let the wind take us on its way.
Our first week there, we met with our community faculty, community leaders who were commissioning the research. Together we built several versions of the survey, while at the same time learning the software that would analyze our data. Byron worked with the Taos Land Trust and surveyed landowners within Taos County (one of the larger counties in the state) about their attitudes towards land easements, and specifically the Taos Land Trust. Ruth and I teamed up and worked with the Cañon Mutual Domestic Water Association (CMDWA) and the Cañon Acequia Association (CAA). Cañon is an unincorporated community adjacent to the Taos town limits. We were to survey acequia (ditch) water rights holders about their opinions concerning their own acequia and the future of this irrigation system.
Acequias are a legacy from the old Spanish irrigating systems brought here from Spain during the colonial period of New Mexico. It is a communal system in which everyone has access to the ditch from his or her own property and everyone shares the water coming down from the mountain for their own crop use. Less than fifty years ago, Cañon was populated with farmers and ranchers, and functioned as a self-sustaining community in which its members bartered commodities with each other. Today, with the continuing growth of Taos, the rise of property tax, the lack of time and money to farm or ranch, and the drought, the old acequia system is in decline.
We worked under the guidance of Ben Tafoya, a commissioner of the CMDWA, and Margaret Vigil, who had been a long-time officer of the CAA.
Ben Tafoya was much more of a friend than a boss, continuously treating us to dinner and fresh eggs from his chickens. He and his family have lived in Cañon for generations and he has been politically involved for years to ensure that Cañon remains a separate entity from the town of Taos, simultaneously maintaining its water rights, which are a growing economic commodity within the state. Margaret Vigil, who is equally if not more politically involved, it turns out, has a much more intimate relation to me. She is the sister of my father’s oldest friend and business partner in Albuquerque. Margaret had helped raise my dad since he was seventeen and had pictures of my brother and me in her house. Yet, despite our familiarity, we encountered each other with surprise.
After adjusting to all of the revelations about family connections to Taos, Ruth and I got down to work. Cañon’s acequia water rights holders number about two hundred, which is also about the total number of households in the community. Our adobe house was situated right at the edge of town, so unlike Byron, who sometimes had to drive hours to reach the huge ranches of the great New Mexican frontier, Ruth and I debated about whether to walk or ride our bikes. We did both.
As we went from house to house, we drew maps of the roads because more often than not the road signs had fallen down decades previously and houses had no numbers.
Nearly every person answering the door would sigh in sympathy at our “plight” of having to walk. One woman insisted we take a couple of sun hats; she wouldn’t let us leave until we agreed to wear them! Our demographic included retired corporate lawyers who liked the way the mountains looked to families that did not have a car but did have an orchard and a bean field, because their family always had.
Our summer persisted in this fashion, as we slowly adjusted to the laconic pace of Cañon. Byron obtained a job as a waiter in one of Taos’ many tourist-feeding restaurants. Ruth and I never did quite figure out how he made any money, because he treated us to dinner almost every week. We went to the Taos Powwow, and to fiestas. We had drinks with our landlord and watched the sunset from our porch almost every night. Our favorite restaurant became the Ol’ Blinking Light, not only because of the good music and food, but also because it was there that we met with John Nichols, the author of The Milagro Beanfield War. This memorable evening was arranged by our faculty advisor Maria Varela. We learned about the Taos water wars of the 70s and 80s, and about John’s activism around land and water issues.
Throughout the summer, Ruth and I had become more politically and emotionally committed to our project as we learned more about Cañon. We visited the Taos Valley Acequia Water Association to better understand acequia issues. Walking through mud and weeds, we became intimately acquainted with the acequias, just as we were beginning to with the community.
At the end of the summer, as we presented our findings to the community, it was fairly evident what had happened. We had a job to do, and we coveted our duty. We had become part of something and we wanted to ensure the results were reliable and understood well enough to be used in the future. The research findings included that a majority (84%) of those surveyed supported efforts to purchase a privately owned water reservoir. If accomplished, this would ensure a consistent flow of water for agricultural uses. Also, a majority (82%) were unequivocal in their opposition to annexation by the Town of Taos. The research will be used by community leaders to develop a plan for Cañon to not only purchase the reservoir, but also to bring in a sewer system and improve the acequia system’s water delivery. Presentations of the research will be scheduled for the Taos Town Council and the Taos County Commission. While I gained extensive real-world experience about small communities, interviewing, and gathering and processing data, I learned tremendous things about my own heritage and origin as well. We all gained new perspective of, and new respect for, that magical place from which we came: home.
Many thanks to Maria Varela and Anne Hyde, who ensured such an experience was possible. Thanks to Ben and Margaret who were already my family, but now with strengthened ties. Thanks as well to Terrie Bad Hand, and Pati Martinson, co-executive directors, and all the supportive staff of The Taos County Economic Development Corporation for being there for us. And a very special thanks to Ruth and Byron for sharing in my summer of sunsets.