Triathlons, Rodeos, and Sikh Dharma

Yesterday I participated in my first ever triathlon. It was a 5k run, then a 20k bike, then a 400 meter swim. Santa Fe insists on having the swim last (contrary to how normal triathlons go) evidently to see how many exhausted people they can drown. The side of the pool was lined with cramping folks. But I didn’t cramp or drown. I did really well. I beat my goal (which was basically to finish) and finished in the first third of my division. I never thought of myself as an athlete because I was always so awful at sports, but then I decided to invest in an inhaler (I had asthma and didn’t know it) and some training, and then I became an athlete. During the race I pushed myself harder than I probably ever have before, and was nauseous for the rest of the day as my body struggled with unprecedented levels of albuterol and purple gatorade, but I feel really happy and proud, and I’m going to do another one in August.

Happy finisher

A couple of weeks ago we went to our first rodeo. It was exactly like how you think it was. It’s one of those things that has become so absurd and caricatured over time that there’s no more thing which you can caricature, only the caricature itself. Like national presidential campaigns, or America in general.

First we all had to rise and worship Jesus (via a “non-denominational prayer” that involved angels and was dedicated to the name of the Son) and then we had to rise again and worship America, and then throughout we were privy to a steady stream of flowery odes to the independent, up-by-your-bootstraps, “work-a-day” cowboy lifestyle. I was totally fascinated with the cultural experience. What made it even more extreme, if that’s possible, was that it took place on pride weekend, so we had attended the pride parade all day and then went to the rodeo, and then were going to more pride events that night.

The rodeo with Sangre de Cristo mts (I think?) in the background. These guys helped the cowboys with all the wrangling and whatnot

The rodeo consisted of about 8-10 events that involved  doing things to animals that they didn’t want you to do to them (like sititng on their backs for 8 seconds or jumping on top of them from off of a running horse and wrestling them to the ground, or tying their legs up in a certain way as you gallop by). Between events there were four year old cowboys trying to ride baby sheep. There were also races and performances wherein women rode horses in impressive formations. I liked those parts a lot better cause they didn’t involve any potential injury to person or animal.

Here is a guy trying to sit on a bull for 8 seconds

We went with a close friend of ours who is a vegetarian and a sensitive soul. We stayed at the rodeo for about two hours and she appeared to be having an anxiety attack the entire time.  Anne, on the other hand, was enjoying this very valuable opportunity to be exposed to the most talented of the cowboy world, a world she already imbued with magical, idealized powers having something to do with nature and masculinity and I don’t even know what. She was super into it. As for me, I was happy to observe everything and everyone and I appreciated this glimpse into another culture and their values, but the frequent sudden, loud noises and the people falling hard off of bucking animals and the baby animals being wrestled and tied again and again started to fray my nerves after a while, and I eventually joined my friend in a hunched-over, protected-from-assailing-sensory-experiences position and waited for Anne to feel like she had had a sufficiently cowboyful time.

I’m glad I went, but I don’t think I need to go again.

Here's some cowboy children of the sort that ride on baby sheep. They also had toy guns, but I didn't get them in the picture.

this is what a rodeo clown looks like

On the weekend prior to the rodeo/pride sandwich weekend, we went to Española for Solstice Peace Prayer Day.  Española is a tiny, dusty town about a 40 minutes north of Santa Fe where the Western Sikhs made their home in the late 60′s/early 70′s. It is also the heroin capital of the US. It is unclear how these two populations are related or whether they overlap at all. Basically this Sikh guy from India started this comunity that was appealing to a lot of white, middle class 60′s and 70′s people as it revolved around achieving happiness, health, and hopefully enlightenment through yoga and meditation and a certain clean lifestyle, and sending your kids to school in India. The Western Sikhs have long beards and long hair and often wear white tunics and both genders wear turbans and everyone’s last name is Khalsa.  You know of them because they make Yogi tea. Our good friend who grew up Sikh designed the package.  Here’s a recent article with info on Western Sikh history and current drama. There’s all kinds of financial intrigue and infighting and complicatedness.

Peace prayer day involves lots of music and dance and talks a longish barefoot walk to three different altars to make dedications to yourself, the world, and the universe. A big component of Western Sikhism as opposed to Punjabi Sikhism is gender equality, and they make a big deal of it, but people who had their period had to step in a different bowl of water at each altar than everyone else. But that might have been a Native American thing cause they were partnering with the Sikhs for the ceremony. Sikhs love Native American spirituality. The other big difference between Western Sikhism and Punjabi Sikhism is Western Sikhs can’t drink or use drugs. (People who live in New York – haven’t you noticed how Punjabi Sikhs are always the life of the party at the clubs? Not so with the Western Sikhs). Our friend who was raised in the community thus figured out that consuming a lot of nutmeg has a strikingly similar effect to consuming marijuana – except it lasts much longer. It’s true, I tried it. But also there’s evidently some toxicity , so I wouldn’t recommend it.

Anyway, I figured out that my connetion to spirituality is more intellectual/idea-related  than sensory/movement-related (in general) and the intellectual components of the talks was definitely lacking, so the day didn’t do much for me spiritually, but it was cool to see other people having lots of love and long hugs and even creepily extended eye contact.

There's Sikh Raffi keeping the crowd pumped as the runners brought the torch to the stage.

On the peace walk

We had a couple of visitors recently and we went on lots of hikes and I will leave you with some more pictures. You should visit and then you will have pictures. Plus it’s really fun to visit here. Plus I miss you.

This is abiquiu lake. It's a dam lake, which I learned is bad. But it's fun to swim in. People who don't have enough anxiety or adrenaline in their lives jump into the water off these cliffs, at least three or four stories high. Anne did that. I jumped off of much much lower cliffs. About two feet high.

arriving at ghost ranch

hiking in O'keefe country. There were no giant vagina flowers. Only these normal ones.

Cerrillos hills with Amy. It looked like alien land.

Sunday afternoon at the town of Cerrillos bar.

Some fireworks. Every kind of explosive is legal here all the time, so the 4th of July was crazy and confusing.