A Storm for A’wee Chi’deedloh in Monument Valley. May 4

A’wee Chi’deedloh is Baby’s first laugh ceremony. That first laugh marks the time a baby transitions from the spirit world to the physical world, ready to join the community.

I learned this from my host, Jeremy, who grew up right here, right amongst these massive monuments.

In the Navaho tradition, the person who causes the baby to laugh first is the one responsible for hosting the party. That was Jeremy. A large, strapping 21 year old, with an affable personality and glittering brown eyes.

Jeremy invited me to boondock on his family land months ago; it was serendipity (is there really such a thing?) that I arrived at the same time as thirty of his family and friends.

I did not intrude on their special occasion, merely added my blessing to the baby’s blessings basket

then set up out in his side field    

away from the action, content to listen to the sounds of drumming, singing, and happy voices coming from inside the family hogan nearby.

. (keep your eyes on those clouds)

Soon, everything was drowned out by the action of a fierce storm which came roaring out of: first, the west with a sandstorm as intense as the one in the movie the Mummy, then an hour later, from the north with wind gusts to 40mph.

I didn’t try to stand out in that sand to take a picture.

I had been caught in it while peeing, sand infiltrating my eyes, hair, nostrils, and of course, the lovely bits,

but here, (facing west)

you can see the storm moving in from the photos I took before it hit.

(looking northeast)

Besides rocking Pearl (with me cocooned inside) to and fro, the wind sent a jackpot of tumbleweeds racing  from the direction of the monuments in front of me toward the ones behind.

(yeah, like this

but a LOT of them at the same time)

One smacked right into my window on its journey. Startled the bejeezus out of me.

Next, thunder began rumbling impatiently throughout the sky,

until it unleashed lightning, cracking and echoing across the valley. (not my capture but the exact image)

I thought “this is a fitting show for a baby’s first laugh celebration.”

Yes, the rain came down.

Gentle at first, it soon pounded down, turning the red dirt into a sticky, clay like cement which I discovered in the morning while answering the call of nature.

It did a nice job of rinsing the dust off of Durga and Pearl, though.

It got cold.  The temperature dropped down into the high 30’s.

I stood out in the storm awhile, letting the rain and wind baptize me, loving the wildness of it all, thinking how fortunate I was to be experiencing this event in Monument Valley in May.

But soon, it became too much. I scrambled into Pearl, holding tight to the door while the wind fought to rip it off.

I peeled off my drenched clothes, brushed my teeth, peered out at the storm awhile, shivering, climbed into bed.

Burrowed inside my covers even though it was only 8:30. Occupied myself for several minutes with blowing hot breath down between my legs to warm my toes.

Inside my nest, I thought about the ancients I’ve been visiting these many days.

I imagined being inside one of their earthen cave rooms watching such a storm run its course, wondering if the Gods were angry, planning how to appease them.

Then I laughed.

“Nyla, they weren’t parked out in the middle of the flat desert inside a fiberglass shell, being blown to and fro.  They were wisely nestled into snug crevices, out of the wind. Enjoying fires and each other. And maybe baby’s first laugh.”