Thursday, November 16, 2006


A place of contrasts.
A well built house abandoned amongst trailer homes. A forest in the desert. A rural area meters away from the center of the city. The former homestead of a large Spanish family, yet now completely empty. The land settled by some of the first immigrants to America, surrounded by Mexican immigrants, some of the latest immigrants to America. Boarded up windows with a sign that says 'keep out,' yet frequented by drugees and miscreants. Across the street from my house and yet never visited by me.
It's amazing how rural my neighborhood feels considering we're literally meters away from the main street and the center of the city of EspaƱola. I keep hearing a donkey and wondering where he's kept. If the inhertors of this property could figure out who owns it, I'm sure it would be developed. The mayordomo (ditch boss) helped me to establish my irrigation rights and told me about the family of Don Carmen (or something similar) who had many children and no will to straighten out the ownership of the land. My neighbor is his 'cousin' but he couldn't remember her name. There is so much history here, probably there have been Europeans where I live for 400 years.

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