This morning is a beautiful sunny morning in Dublan.
The Mourning Doves and Wild Pigeons (White Wing Doves) are around on
the ground in little bunches to find the gravel they need for their
gizzards. The blackbirds are patrolling the garden looking for worms
and insects. Our little Tige is romping around the yard with one ear
that won't stand up, flopping across the top of his head. He is
excited to be alive and thinks it is plenty warm because he drags his
warm bed, that Karl made for him, out of the dog house to use outside.
He is intelligent and tries to obey everything he understands and
responds enthusiastically to every overture of affection and wiggles
most of his body with his tail.
The trailer was full of trash that we had collected
that consisted mostly of dry blackberry bushes, frozen Prickly Pear
Cactus leaves, weeds and grass, and some kitchen garbage. We hooked up
the red van to the trailer and went to the dump.
Casas Grandes is growing. Even after we turned off the
highway that goes through town we passed 15 blocks going east filled
with homes built close together on lots 15 Mts. wide by 30 Mts. long.
These extend from the fence of the Dublan farms almost to the canal on
When we arrived at the dump we were motioned to unload
next to three other trucks that were there unloading. The ground was
soft where the bulldozer had leveled while covering the previous
garbage. We unloaded at the edge of a deep hole that was still about
an acre in extent. While Ventura was unloading I looked around the
dump. The whole area was mostly white with white plastic sacks but was
dotted with black crows by the hundreds walking sedately around
looking for something to eat. They swarmed even around the people who
were working there recycling everything that could be used or sold. I
marvel at how the people tear open every garbage bag and go minutely
through every bit of garbage that comes out to the dump. There are
usually 10 or 15 people there working in different areas and some
couples working side by side. When their salvaged piles get big enough
the trucks come and buy it and haul it away. It might be a truck load
of metal or a truck load of bailed cardboard or whatever.
Today I saw a couple that looked like they had come
from some place in the mountains. The woman was dismantling an inner
spring mattress. She had torn off all of the cloth ticking and was
finishing pulling out the cotton padding. It looked like a queen size
inner spring it was complete with outer frame top and bottom with all
of the springs joined together. A real find of steel and wire. She
piled a load of cans and other scrap metal on the springs and dragged
it all over to their growing pile. She was dressed in baggy men's
clothing complete with a worn jacket. Her face was intelligent and
nice looking and her hair was brought back and clasped loosely in the
back where it hung down to her waist. It looked healthy and shiny and
well cared for. She looked strong and accustomed to working with her
hands. The man was about the same height and dressed in ordinary
Chihuahua work clothes and a hat that was fairly new. I couldn't see
his shoes or boots because they were deep in the garbage that he was
turning over with a stick that had a nail in the end of it. I thought
to myself that these people would make good members of the church.
about then they had moved and Ventura was ready to go.
As we started out a truck load of sacked goods came
into the dump. It looked to me like they were sacks of spoiled
potatoes. Five little boys with sacks in their hands went running over
to intercept the truck and be among the first at the unloading site.
Apparently they had been waiting for this load of whatever it was.
While I was watching the couple near the van my
attention was diverted to a burro straining and stretching to pull a
wagon load of junk up out of the hole on a provisional steep road. I
had to smile and admire that noble little animal who without faltering
step by slow step came determinedly up the hill. He stopped only when
the wagon was on the level. The man climbed down off the wagon and
began to adjust his load that was piled as high as possible without
some of it falling off. The harness the burro had on was an old Collar
padded with rags, a pair of Haymes, and Tug Chains held up with a Back
The two men in charge of the dump have become good
friends and always come over to chat a while when I come with a load.
One works the morning shift and the other the afternoon shift. They
each have their pile of junk and a shade to rest under. The dogs, I
don't know how many, are in good shape and look well fed and the
burros that pasture inside the dump fence are nice and fat. Most of
the people that work in the dump are regulars but many only come on
occasion and some are transient like the Tarahumara ladies that I saw
the other day. I think the Indian ladies make a lot more money begging
on the street than collecting in the dump. I am sure that the poor
people that collect in the dump for a living are much too proud to beg
and feel independent in their chosen work.
It's time for dinner so I must sign off. We are having
a Stir Fry Hominy with Tortillas today. Come and join us.