Angelika It's been over ten years since we were in Santa Fe in the state of New Mexico (Rundbrief 10/2006). And since we really enjoyed it there back then, we decided to spend New Year's Eve in the desert again. Apple closes between Christmas and New Year, and I now have more vacation days than Michael, so I can easily take a few days off. We flew out on December 25th. Now, December 25th here is not only the first day of Christmas but also Christmas Eve, because in the early morning, Americans open presents with their families. Due to this circumstance, we managed to get a super cheap flight to Albuquerque in the morning, because at that time everyone is still sitting under the Christmas tree. However, even in capitalist America, everything is closed on December 25th.

In wise foresight, I had booked us a hotel at our flight destination, Albuquerque, whose hotel restaurant was also open on December 25th. And indeed, everything else was closed, and the downtown area was almost deserted. Only a Japanese restaurant was still open, but it was so overcrowded that we couldn't get in. Albuquerque is somewhat considered the stepchild of New Mexico, overshadowed by Santa Fe, and certainly doesn't have as much to offer, but we spent a pleasant evening there.

Santa Fe is about an hour's drive from Albuquerque, beautifully situated at an altitude of 2,194 meters, and although Santa Fe has only about 84,000 inhabitants, it offers numerous museums and 240 galleries. The climate is extremely dry, and in winter it is sunny but cold. My sinuses, spoiled by the moist San Francisco climate, immediately complained about the dryness, but the brochure from our vacation rental assured us that one gets used to the dryness and altitude. In any case, we used up tons of moisterizing hand balm.

Santa Fe and the state of New Mexico fascinate me because here, Native American culture blends with Spanish (through the Spanish conquerors) and Mexican traditions, as well as a deep connection to nature, spirituality, and Catholicism. New Mexico also has the highest percentage of Latinos (from South America) and Hispanics (from Spain), as well as the second-largest percentage of Native Americans compared to other states. Like San Francisco, Santa Fe is different from the rest of America. It's no wonder that the desert landscape, with its clear air, blue sky, and rock formations that change color in the sunlight, has always attracted artists. While hiking, I repeatedly noticed the abundand silence.

Even when I visited the USA for the first time many years ago, it angered me that Native Americans are not allowed to sell their own jewelry everywhere. Gift shops in various tourist hotspots often do not sell authentic jewelry or take a large portion of the profits. However, on the marketplace in Santa Fe under the arcades of the "Palace of the Governors," you can be sure that the jewelry, woven, and painted goods are authentic. For over 60 years, Native American artists have been selling their artworks here. Only those who belong to a Native American tribe and create their own goods are allowed to spread out a blanket and sell their jewelry here. The art market takes place almost every day, and there are a total of 69 spots. It was, of course, clear that I had to buy something there. I purchased a ring from Marvin Slim.

Forty miles from Santa Fe lies the small town of Chimayo, with a population of 3,000. For Catholics, it is a pilgrimage site similar to Lourdes. The earth here is said to have healing properties, and every year tens of thousands of believers make the pilgrimage to the church built in Spanish colonial style in 1816 in the mountains. They come to scoop the earth from the church ground into containers they bring with them.

The fine earth comes from a hole in a small room of the church. We were not allowed to take photos there, and we also left the earth in the church, but several visitors filled small plastic bags with it. By the way, the earth has to be replenished regularly, and church employees supposedly collect it every day from the surrounding Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Some believers are said to eat or drink the earth to internalize its healing power, although it is said to be sufficient to rub the corresponding body parts with the earth while a prayer is spoken. The old church is beautiful, with thick adobe walls, wooden beams, and folklore-like altar paintings.

The whole atmosphere, however, was very touristy and commercialized for our taste. For example, in a side room, there were hundreds of crutches hanging, supposedly left behind by healed visitors. Although I don't believe in miraculous healings, I did study psychology for several semesters, and we thoroughly investigated the phenomenon of the placebo effect. Nevertheless, I am fascinated by such places and the people who leave no stone unturned for a glimmer of hope.

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