These travel logs are interesting in that you're able to observe and relate the kind of details that most of us would never know unless we lived in the place and even then, maybe we wouldn't see them. I'm curious how the people of Albuquerque have been shaped by the flow of water. The presence and absence of it. The crudely manual management of it.
I'm curious about the squabbling that must occur over water rights, and if given its importance and value in that area are there any nefarious dealings. One person decides the amount of water and when. What happens if he doesn't like you, and does he work for the government or is he part of a private corporation. I wonder what the history is of some of those residents. I'm sure a few are long time generational that could tell stories. The whole process is old and beautiful, but is there more to it? I think you need to go back for another 30 days and tell us 😉
The only way to know a place is to uncover the marrow as you have been, Tom - to meet locals and learn the real deal. But as you note, even then, it’s barely a mark on the history lived. Im very intrigued by this place.
Mar 12, 2023·edited Mar 12, 2023Liked by Tom Pendergast
There are cities that people have lived in their whole lives, and they still don't "know" it. They know their corner, perhaps. They know how to travel it (sometimes). In my city, if someone asked me how to get from Westfort to Current River by city bus, I could vaguely point them in the right direction, but that's about it.
Similarly, I'm sure there are many people in Albuquerque who now know less about the water system than you do.
I'm not saying this to be defeatist or pessimistic. I, like you, really enjoy going to a new city and learning about it. Sometimes I have an afternoon. Sometimes I have a week or more. You usually learn more in those longer stretches (unless, say, you're laid up in a hotel room recovering from malaria and don't get out much...)
I'm saying this because I'm pretty philosophical about it. We all learn things about our environments that interest us, whether that's an environment where we live or whether we're just passing through. We take what we need. We take what feeds us. I'm not sure if we're looking for ourselves reflected in the city or if we are looking for the city reflected in ourselves. But either way, we're looking for connection -- a mental and emotional souvenir of our time there.
(See? I told ya -- philosophical...!)
Anyway, glad you had your 30 days there. Maybe you can go out in the field again next winter and follow up. (Also another great thing about not learning everything all at once -- gives you a good reason to go back.)
Great post as always -- who knew irrigation ditches could stop and make you think!
I love the curiosity of this. I've never heard of these ditches and now I find them interesting too. This is one of those articles where the average person would see these ditches and not think a bit more about them. Yet these ditches clearly play a vital role in that area. They're big for them.
The folks with money put their good face toward Rio Grande Blvd., but from the ditches you see the way people really live: the dogs running free, the peacocks calling from their pen of scrap lumber and chicken wire, the irrigation trenches hand dug to direct water to improvised gardens. It’s not that some people don’t have beautiful back yards. It’s just that from the ditch side, most people aren’t putting on a show, they’re just living their lives.
That was quite informative and fascinating! This took me back to when I was a child in Kazakhstan. At my grandparents' dacha, there was an aryk nearby, which is a small aqueduct. I once went with a bucket to gather some water. I was so small, maybe six. Well the stream was fairly strong, and that bucket was taken away by it. I fortunately did not haha.
These travel logs are interesting in that you're able to observe and relate the kind of details that most of us would never know unless we lived in the place and even then, maybe we wouldn't see them. I'm curious how the people of Albuquerque have been shaped by the flow of water. The presence and absence of it. The crudely manual management of it.
I'm curious about the squabbling that must occur over water rights, and if given its importance and value in that area are there any nefarious dealings. One person decides the amount of water and when. What happens if he doesn't like you, and does he work for the government or is he part of a private corporation. I wonder what the history is of some of those residents. I'm sure a few are long time generational that could tell stories. The whole process is old and beautiful, but is there more to it? I think you need to go back for another 30 days and tell us 😉
The only way to know a place is to uncover the marrow as you have been, Tom - to meet locals and learn the real deal. But as you note, even then, it’s barely a mark on the history lived. Im very intrigued by this place.
There are cities that people have lived in their whole lives, and they still don't "know" it. They know their corner, perhaps. They know how to travel it (sometimes). In my city, if someone asked me how to get from Westfort to Current River by city bus, I could vaguely point them in the right direction, but that's about it.
Similarly, I'm sure there are many people in Albuquerque who now know less about the water system than you do.
I'm not saying this to be defeatist or pessimistic. I, like you, really enjoy going to a new city and learning about it. Sometimes I have an afternoon. Sometimes I have a week or more. You usually learn more in those longer stretches (unless, say, you're laid up in a hotel room recovering from malaria and don't get out much...)
I'm saying this because I'm pretty philosophical about it. We all learn things about our environments that interest us, whether that's an environment where we live or whether we're just passing through. We take what we need. We take what feeds us. I'm not sure if we're looking for ourselves reflected in the city or if we are looking for the city reflected in ourselves. But either way, we're looking for connection -- a mental and emotional souvenir of our time there.
(See? I told ya -- philosophical...!)
Anyway, glad you had your 30 days there. Maybe you can go out in the field again next winter and follow up. (Also another great thing about not learning everything all at once -- gives you a good reason to go back.)
Great post as always -- who knew irrigation ditches could stop and make you think!
I love the curiosity of this. I've never heard of these ditches and now I find them interesting too. This is one of those articles where the average person would see these ditches and not think a bit more about them. Yet these ditches clearly play a vital role in that area. They're big for them.
A brilliant exploration of the inner workings of a fascinating system not just of water movement but of local culture. Such a great read, Tom!
Gotta say I'm loving Tom the Travel Writer.
The folks with money put their good face toward Rio Grande Blvd., but from the ditches you see the way people really live: the dogs running free, the peacocks calling from their pen of scrap lumber and chicken wire, the irrigation trenches hand dug to direct water to improvised gardens. It’s not that some people don’t have beautiful back yards. It’s just that from the ditch side, most people aren’t putting on a show, they’re just living their lives.
Beautiful!
Thanks for sharing this. I had no idea what an acequias was before this.
That was quite informative and fascinating! This took me back to when I was a child in Kazakhstan. At my grandparents' dacha, there was an aryk nearby, which is a small aqueduct. I once went with a bucket to gather some water. I was so small, maybe six. Well the stream was fairly strong, and that bucket was taken away by it. I fortunately did not haha.