That’s how some locals refer to snow. The expression is either Tewa or from the Spanish, and I’m sorry I forget. Whatever you call it, we’re going to get some. Here’s the official word from one of the last national government agencies still functioning:
Snow will increase in coverage and intensity Monday night through Tuesday night with residual wrap around snowfall on Wednesday. The most significant snow accumulations will be found across the Jemez Mountains… most notably the Los Alamos and Wolf Canyon areas as well as across the upper elevations of the west slopes of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. As much as 2 feet of snow could fall across those areas. Elsewhere look for the possibility of 8 to 16 inches with slightly lesser amounts across the upper Rio Grande Valley. Some blowing and drifting of snow will also be observed with this event.
Taos lies on the west slopes of the Sangres, and we can see the Jemez Mountains to the south, so we may get a foot or more. I’m looking forward to it, so long as we don’t have to go anywhere. Besides, all that snow and howling wind outside makes it even more fun to hole up with the woodstove, and thank God for DSL. (I made up the part about howling wind. You really can’t hear a thing through these adobe walls.)
If it doesn’t snow tomorrow, it surely will soon: the Pueblo elders will see to that. There’s a dance the men perform at Taos Pueblo some years on January 6 that has the specific function of helping it snow, among other things. It’s called the buffalo dance, and for my money it’s among the most dramatic sacred rituals I’ve ever seen. Here’s a brief description from my book that I hope won’t get me banned — if you talk about these things too much, that’s what happens. Anyway, here goes:
While actually a very sacred part of pueblo religious tradition, the dance is freely shared with anyone who comes — no photographs allowed, of course. Learning this, I joined a modest crowd of locals to watch the dancers in their heavy buffalo-head skins mill and jump to the beat of the accompanying drummers. The buffalo dancers surrounded a smaller group of warriors wearing elk skins, also with attached heads. Other actors wheeled and turned inside the “herd” like ravens or eagles. The heavy rhythm of the tightly massed assemblage shook the earth and grabbed me by the shoulders. My general ignorance notwithstanding, I found myself profoundly moved — if I’d been able, I’d have given them snow, all right.
This wasn’t a “performance,” either. The thudding drums and buffalo-headed dancers raising the winter dust with their moccasined feet are simultaneously fantastic and immediately real. The participants are inside the belly of the beast, massaging the bloody guts of nature with passion, prayer, and active manipulation. If you witness such a thing and leave your intellect at home, the truth of this can change your life.
People have told me that they’ve gone to a buffalo dance on a bitterly cold, dry, sunny day and seen it snow that very afternoon. I believe it. And yet, even such intense rituals take place within a universal human context in a culture rich in humor. We knew a Hispanic woman married to a Taos Pueblo man who usually danced in the buffalo dance, but one year we heard he couldn’t make it. The reason was that he’d loaned his regalia to someone else, his younger brother perhaps, and no, I don’t know the details. But the way it was explained to us, he couldn’t dance “because he doesn’t have a skin.”
Cracks me up every time I tell it.
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No wonder people claim that El Norte is “Heaven’s Window”…you truly DO live on the Top of the World….read that comment somewhere reportedly made by a Taos Pueblo elder….I believe it….and I would put up with two feet of snow to witness some of the things you live with every day!! You ARE a Lucky man John! Steve
bet that old twin reverb might get a workout as well should you be snowed in …. : )
Book reference is “Heavens Window-a Journey through Northern New Mexico” by Michael Wallis…..I loved it and highly recommend it to all!
Looking forward to the pics, as it will be 63 in NYC today. Too balmy for me at this time of year.
Well, Steve, it ain’t Oklahoma.
On the other hand, it’s not an easy place to live, and I had to blow up my old life to get here. Jumping into the “grow or die” dynamic at age 55 was murder… not to mention the 90 percent income drop… but there are mountains just outside the window now, and I’m at least 75 miles away from the nearest Interstate.
Will check out the book, and thanks.