SANTA FE, N.M.—Gregorita Chavarria sat in a large wheelchair. She looked on the proceedings of Indian Day at the Santa Fe State Capitol Feb. 13 with small brown eyes—eyes that have seen a century come and go. She was honored as the oldest living Santa Clara Pueblo. She's 102 years old.
When her name was called, she was wheeled out so everybody could see her. She lifted her hand to the applauding crowd and was wheeled back to her designated spot in the corner.
My heart strings jerked a little to see this old woman. She slouched in her chair and wore a thick red fleece jacket and a blanket over her lap. Her gray-white hair was tied tightly back, making her head and features appear small.
As Indian Day was concluding, and the men in business suits were talking business with each other, I went over to get a better look at her and talk to her. I stood by a pillar and looked at her for a while. People came up and shook her hand. She looked up at them towering over her and smiled and said something that they couldn't hear without bending down and saying, "What?"
I tapped on her shoulder after I made sure that no one else was waiting for a chance to meet her. She looked up at me, and I kneeled down so I was at eye level with her. She smelled like Dial soap and an old blanket that you might get from the closet for a guest. She offered her hand to me, and mine felt so big when I grabbed hers and shook it. Her hand was soft, and I could feel all the bones beneath her thin potato-like skin.
I waited for her to say something first because I wasn't sure that she could speak English. She started to say something and I put my ear close to her mouth.
"Have a good day," she said.
"How are you doing?" I asked her.
"Have a good day," she said again. I smiled and thought, this is going to be a difficult interview. I was half right.
"What do you think of Indian Day?" I asked.
"What?" she said. "My hearing is bad."
I asked her again and she paused, then mumbled something and went into her past. She talked about how she loved to cook bread, posole, stew and chili.
She said that when she was young, she had an old uncle who told her that she was going to see changes in the world and changes in the Pueblo people.
"The changes are here, I have seen them," she said.
I'm 19 and I have seen so many changes in the world already. I cannot even imagine what sort of life this lady lived in 1910 or 1930. I cannot imagine what sort of life she lived as a Pueblo in that time. As she was telling me this, she took breaths and long pauses, my knees were hurting from the marble floor and people were stepping over my feet annoyed.
I put myself in her place and saw the traditions and culture fade away. I saw natural beauty turn to modern machinery and language to a lost art.
"Young people are not obedient," she said. "No more."
My heart strings were yanked again when her words rang true to me. I thought of the drug abuse and juvenile crimes that plague the reservation, my reservation. I have also seen these changes. I wonder what sort of changes I will see in the future.
Gregorita's words made negative change seem inevitable for our people and our country, but she's still here, so I guess it's not that bad.
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Read Andi Murphy's report on Indian Day, "Indian's Special Day [1]"