Stanford chats with Matt Aranow and Mia Burkhalter, of the Ancient Pathways program 2009, while they take a break from Hogan building.

Caroline Goodman, a Program Leader with Deer Hill, wrote this piece about her community service project in the Navajo Nation in 2009 with the Ancient Pathways adventure summer camp group. You can learn more about Caroline and our other field leaders on our staff page. Find out more about our Ancient Pathways teen summer camp here.

Travelling to Navajo

I have been with Deer Hill for quite a few years now, as both a camper and leader, and have taken part in 12 or so service projects on the reservations of the Southwest. This past summer, I took my Ancient Pathways group to Low Mountain, Arizona – a hard to reach spot in the Navajo Nation (google map it!). Located in the western part of the rez, Low Mountain borders the Hopi Mesas and the independent radio station there plays the news in both Hopi and Navajo. It really is like a different country. Once we left Chinle, our directions to Grandma Bessie Charley’s house described a maze of dirt roads and alerted us to turn at landmarks like the rusted out bed of an old truck or the third trailer on the right, the one with the red pick-up in the front. We were to going to stay with Grandma for a week, and, as Grandma speaks no English, her son-in-law Stanford, was to be our official host. We arrived late in the afternoon, relieved to have found the place and uncertain we would be able to retrace our steps. We set up camp, building a makeshift kitchen area off an old Hogan that belonged to one of Stanford’s sisters-in-law. (A Hogan is a structure of logs and mud, traditionally used for both ceremonial and dwelling purposes). Even in the evening, the air was hot and dry and we made sure to rig up a shade shelter. The group made a quick meal and Stanford and his brother-in-law Junior ate with us in the dark.

Getting to work

Our initial schedule for the week was vague, although we had a long list of projects: we were to prepare for Grandma’s 80th birthday celebration by painting the house, digging a new outhouse, etc. At the top of the list was a new lamb Hogan for Grandma. Low Mountain is a traditional place and many people there still herd sheep as a way of life. At 80 years old, Grandma has a full herd of sheep and goats that she cares for year-round. Winter is a difficult time for the livestock. The cold claims many sheep lives, and the babies are especially susceptible. At night, when the temperature drops in the desert, the new lambs must be taken inside and kept warm. For this purpose, Navajo sheep ranches have small lamb Hogans: shelters built under the ground and equipped with a stove, where the babies are stowed away during the cold night. The summer before, another Deer Hill group had stayed with Grandma and built her a new sheep shelter – a three-sided structure in the sheep corral that the animals could huddle under for warmth and protection from the weather.  This structure, according to Stanford, had raised the winter survival rate of Grandma’s sheep herd by 75%. The problem now was the lambing Hogan. The existing Hogan was located next to the old corral, a long way across the property and a near-impossible trek for an old woman in the dark in the middle of January hauling newborn lambs to warmth. Grandma was worried about what was going to happen to the babies this coming winter if a lamb Hogan wasn’t built next to the new corral.

Making a difference

With our goal set, the participants were enthusiastic. They started in the next morning, working early to avoid the mid-day heat. We started by simply digging a hole – rotating shovels and pick axes through the group, moving shovelfuls of the dry, desert soil. By the end of the next day, our hole was big enough to fit most of us into it packed shoulder to shoulder. Standing up in the hole, the ground now came to our waists and chests.  We were ready for the next step. While some of us were digging and setting a few rows of rocks around the edge of the hole, Stanford had taken the rest of the group and set them to the task of hauling large logs from a scrap pile on the property over to the Hogan site.  We used our van and trailer to haul the heavy wood. Now, under Stanford’s instruction, we began to lay the logs across the hole, stacking them on top of one another.  We chose long, fat logs at first and placed them on the rock and dirt shelf we had built bordering the top edge of the hole, creating a wide foundation for the roof.  As the roof got higher, the logs became shorter, until a kind of beehive structure had emerged over our subterranean room. This, Stanford told us, was the way Hogans used to be constructed, built under the ground for added protection against the weather.

The satisfaction of an equal exchange

The excitement of the students at completing the project is difficult to describe. Much of it came from accomplishing a task through hard work, a feeling of simple usefulness. The Hogan that they had built was going to make a real and practical impact in someone’s life, and the family’s livelihood. The students also felt the satisfaction of an equal exchange. Our time at Grandma Charley’s was not solely spent working; we also took time out to visit other member’s of Stanford’s extended family and observe and take part in their traditions. One afternoon, we helped prepare dough for a traditional cake. Baked in a hole beneath the earth overnight, the cake is made of corn meal, ground by hand for the occasion. Women and girls of different generations sat in a circle in the living room of one of Stanford’s sisters in law. They mixed the cornmeal, water and molasses mixture with traditional stirring stick bundles until it was smooth and free of lumps. The female members of our group were invited to participate and we soon realized how strenuous a task it was to stir the thick mixture.

Another morning, we woke early to help Grandma Charley shear her sheep. The first task was to lasso and secure each animal that needed shearing from the corral. Stanford threw the lasso and the participants ran as fast as they could to herd the sheep toward Stanford and then pounce on them once the animal’s foot was caught in the rope. Two of us held down the sheep, while another tied three of its feet together with twine. Finally, all of us hauled the animal over to a waiting wheelbarrow, where it was transported to the site of the shearing. As with each task we undertook, sheering sheep required patience, focus, and cooperation. We were all surprised by how much skill and strength was required to “live traditionally” The empathy, respect and understanding that comes with this realization is, to me, the most valuable end product of service. By doing service we learn, through experience, fun, and hard work, about another culture and a different way of living.