The Usual Suspects

When it comes to jobs, I could probably be called a loner. At work, I focus on performing certain tasks expected of me in exchange for a paycheck. I do what I'm told, speak when spoken to - whether it be with a customer, visitor, or coworker - and I make a serious attempt to keep my social life and work life seperate. This is partly due to my elitist standards when it comes to prospective friends (which in turn is mostly an excuse to explain away my incredible social awkwardness) and partly due to the fact that I have yet to find a job so engaging that I would want any part of it to permeate my life outside the workplace.

My current position, however, presents an interesting bump in this philosophy - that being, my coworkers are also my neighbors. We all (well, almost all) leave work at the same time and make our way down the same half-mile to the same neighborhood, where we all reside on the same dead-end street. It's a slightly strange phenomenon, especially since I still try to maintain my policy of zero after-hours interaction. I'm not sure how everyone else handles this. Maybe they're all bestest friends, having dinner together, or popping by to borrow a cup of sugar. They probably think I'm a recluse or a snob, which I guess are both a little true. But I wouldn't know. At 5pm I come straight back to my cozy little trailer and spend the rest of the night there, watching Northern Exposure dvds and working crossword puzzles.

It's not that I dislike these people - they are all very amiable during work hours, as am I. It's mostly a case of "old habits die hard" - the fact that no one else here is close to my age and I see very little evidence that we have much in common other than our place of employment. Let me give you the rundown:

Susan

The boss-lady. She's not officially the head honcho (that's Terry, the superintendent, whose only job, as far as I can tell, is to sit alone in his office at the back of the building and never speak to anyone), but she's the one who hired me, she's the one who makes the schedules, and she's the one who gets to give project assignments to everyone. She's pretty straight-forward and kind of soft-spoke, but I have seen her joke just a little bit with coworkers once in awhile.

Rex and Peg

Volunteers. A retired married couple, they live in their own giant RV right next to my humble little Conquest. I assume they travel the country in their Winnebago and have volunteered at parks before, though I'm not positive, because I hardly talk to them. Rex is a former professional photographer and is using his talents on several AV projects for the park. He also sounds like everything he says has a hint of sarcasm behind it. Now I know what it's like to talk to myself. Peg works basically the same stint as I do at the visitor's center, just on different days/shifts.

Brian

Head of maintenance. He lives in Globe, possible for his entire life. I usually only see him every now and then in the morning, before the geriatrics start pouring in. Most of the time, he's down at the Resources Management building (with a few other people I never see) or running around doing most any handyman job - construction, plumbing, trail maintenance, carpentry, trash pick-up, etc, etc. In his days off, he apparently enjoys hunting and drinking Coors Light.

Patrick

Law enforcement ranger. He doesn't really work at the visitor's center per se - his office is tucked in the darkest corner of the basement - he more wanders in and out at his leisure. He's probably in his mid-late 30s, married (his wife works for the US Forest Service), two kids, and he really loves dogs. I mean really. He lives across the street from me. So far he is the only one in the neighborhood who has extended an invitation to his house if I need assistance with anything, or if I want to use the oven, or if I want to just pet his dogs. I have yet to take him up on the offer...

Janet

Park guide. One of the three main people I work with every day (i.e. - the "Interpretive Staff"). I don't know that much about her, but she has a kind of halting, Jeff Goldblum-ish manner of speaking and tends to laugh at her own jokes. She is generally likeable. I've also noticed that she randomly sniffs a lot.

Eddie

Park ranger/guide. So far Eddie is my favorite person to work with. Unfortunately (for me) he lives outside the park. He's been working at the park for nearly 30 years and can remember when the road through Tonto Basin was still gravel. He's a pretty avid outdoorsman, knows basically everything there is to know about the area - history, geology, plants, and animals - and can talk about it for hours. I got to spend a lot of time observing him during my first week. He would walk and talk for three hours, explaining to tourists every detail of ancient Indian life. When he was finished, he would lean over to me and say, "That was so much bullshit. I've got to train you to stop me when we get close to two hours." Yet, despite his laid-back demeanor, he'll tell you he hates people. And by "people" I think he really means "tourists." Eddie has been here so long, he's seen all the campgrounds built up around the lake and the RVs start pouring in. I've heard him lament how there's no place that people will leave untouched anymore (even though this is still pretty much a wilderness to me). I told him he should move to the arctic, to which he replied, "You know, it's just about come to that." I think he still keeps the job, because even if he hates the tourists, at least he can get paid to talk about something he's truly interested in. But as far as I go, Eddie's pretty friendly, and he keeps an eye out to make sure I'm not going crazy in my little trailer.

Jan

Park guide. Let me start by saying, Jan is nice. She is amiable enough, and she has never done anything to specifically make me not like her. That being said, on my second morning of work, Brian gave me this caveat, "I would stay clear of her. She's always worried about things she doesn't need to be." To which he later added, "Well, you'll see." And I have seen. Jan is somewhat of an anomaly of a person to me. She can, in the same breath, shout with excitement for a new project and then mourn about how she will have more work to do. Which she seems to bring on herself. I was lucky enough to accompany her on a full moon tour to the upper cliff dwelling, a treat the park has every couple of months or so. I expected it to be the same as any other hike, except in the dark, but Jan was in a constant state of stress about it for a week. I discovered that this was because she had planned a kind of elaborate play-act, where the tourists would pretend to be Indians - farmers, hunters, gatherers - and everyone would get to wear color-coded bandanas and carry props. Plus the whole thing was going to be filmed by Rex and Peg as a project for Jan to submit for a certification. PLUS, on the night of the hike, it was cold and raining and cloudy. We actually got hailed on at one point (the clouds did part eventually, though, giving a great view of the moon). And the hike I went on was just a practice run. She had to do it all again the next night. The moral of the story being, she completely freaked out and complained about it for a week, but it was all her own doing in the first place.

The part of this that is the most frustrating, though, is the fact that Jan seems to have no inner monologue. She can drive herself crazy if she wants to, but I don't need to listen to it the whole time. Jan will sit at her computer, and basically narrate everything she is thinking. Sometimes I think it's because she wants someone to pay attention to her, but then I will realize that at some point she went from talking to herself to talking directly to me (or to someone else in the room). No mention of a name, or anything specifically to catch my attention. I guess maybe she assumed that I was already listening to everything she was mumbling to herself (which is usually true only half the time). I can never tell if she's actually talking to me, if she's hoping I will talk to her, or if she just can't keep her thoughts silent. Also, she does occasionally seem to jump into situations that don't actually involve her. Like the time she was convinced she could communicate with some French Canadian visitors better than Susan or I. Or the time when she ran after a couple because she was convinced that their dogs were too fat to make it up the trail (they made it just fine). Basically, I just try to ignore her most of the time, unless she's obviously looking in my direction. It's seemed to work well so far.


So that's the weekly lineup here at the monument. We might not be one big happy family, or even close neighbors, but at least we get the job done.

Maybe it was Utah

Things continue to settle in nicely in Part 2 of this weekly western serial. My DVD player is finally hooked up, and Eddie (one of my coworkers) has been so kind as to loan me several VHS from his own personal collection. Our tastes tend to diverge quite a bit, but he's 60 and he's nice, and I can't really turn down free movies, so I'm much obliged.

As far as work goes, I've started an almost-daily shift standing at the Lower Cliffs, which I thoroughly enjoy. Visitors are always saying things like, "It must get pretty boring up here," or "Do you HAVE to stand here ALL day?" to which I usually reply, "It's a lot better than sitting in an office all day." And it is. When I first started, I wasn't so excited about the piles of archaeological research dumped on me. It's just not my bag. Plants and animals - sweet! Ancient Indians - meh. But now that I've got a cache of info filed in my brain and a little experience under my belt, I'm starting to remember why I was so excited about this job in the first place. I do love random facts, and I love sharing them with people even more, probably just because it's fun to show off that I know stuff. But I do love it when someone asks me a question and I can answer it for them - tell them something they didn't know. I like it when other people are eager to learn and I can help them out a little bit, and if it happens that I can't, well then that's just another reason for me to go look up a new random tidbit for myself. This is why I think I would enjoy some kind of educational career. Probably not in a conventional classroom setting, but there's got to be something out there, right? I've got time to look at my options, anyway.

While the job itself is going swimmingly, I've recently realized how surreal it is to actually be here. Working a full-time job brings with it routine - I get up at the same time every morning, travel the same road to and from work, stand in the same places all day, answer the same questions, and stare out at the same picturesque desert landscape.

Wait, what was the last one?

Living and working every day in the middle of all this idyllic southwestern scenery makes it easy to take it all for granted. The sun bouncing off the distant red cliffs, sparkling on the lake, casting shadows in the canyons. The ubiquitous and iconic silhouette of the saguaro everywhere you turn. The giant, starry sky over your head every night, totally unpolluted by any city lights. I mean, I talk to people every day who travel here from all over the country - sometimes the world - just to see places like this. And I live here. I live on the set of a western movie. Like I said, it can be surreal.

I think what makes it the strangest, though, and possibly what makes it so easy to take it for granted, is not only to I currently live here, but I am going to be living here in the future. Every other place I've ever traveled to, I had a time-line - I knew when I was going to be leaving. So I knew exactly how long I had to take everything in before it would all be over. But after my current job is over, at the end of this three months, I'm still going to be in Arizona. I'm still going to be surrounded by deserts and mountains and cactus and canyons. Granted, I won't be living right in the middle of it - I'll be in an apartment, in a city, much like other cities - but all of that landscape will only be a short drive away. I'll have infinite opportunity to visit. It won't be whisked away again at the end of three months. And that's what's really surreal.

It's also what's totally amazing and exciting, because at the end of this three months, not only will I still be in Arizona, but I will be with Shawn. I might not be living in the middle of a John Ford movie, but I will be with Shawn, and that is more important to me than any postcard scenery. Together we'll be able to share the excitement of moving to a new locale, the adventure of exploring new places, and the awesomeness of just being with each other. When Shawn finally arrives, the reality of Arizona will finally hit me, because it will be a reality with him. That's what I've really been looking forward to, whether I happened to be in the desert, the jungle, or the arctic. And I can't even describe my excitement, because that reality is only a month away. In mid-March, Shawn has to attend the wedding of some good friends in Indiana, and after that, he's making a beeline for Phoenix. Woohoo! Let the countdown begin!

So in the meantime.....life at Tonto National Monument is pretty good. The job is swell, I get to visit town at least once a week, and every now and then I remember what a wondrous place I'm living in. I've already seen a roadrunner AND a coyote (unfortunately, not at the same time)! Maybe next week I'll be able to fill you in on some madcap desert adventure. Or at least on some of my coworkers.

And So It Begins

Well, folks. Here I am. Arizona - it does exist! This post may be brief and incoherent, since I've been sitting at the library for three hours already, my stomach is growling, and I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it.


On Feb. 2 I arrived at the wonderful Tonto National Monument, around 5pm MST (that's Mountain Standard Time), and was quickly ushered into my humble, 26ft-long abode. I started work bright and early the next morning and proceeded to field a bombardment of information. In the past week, I have learned more about Native Americans, the desert, and the National Park Service than I ever knew possible. But I have to say that Arizona is definitely beautiful. And vast. I've never seen so many cacti in my life! I mean, I know I'm in the desert, but it still seems kind of unreal. Let me break things down for you:

Where

The park is located in an area called Tonto Basin. And "basin" really is the best description - it's a huge open area (I don't even know how many square miles, but a lot) surrounded by mountains, and almost all of it is part of Tonto National Forest. In the middle is Roosevelt Lake, created by the Roosevelt Dam and fed by the Salt River and Tonto Creek. The closest vestige of civilization is the "town" of Roosevelt, which basically consists of a gas station/restaurant, a mobile home park, an RV park, and a post office. The town was created when the dam was being built, and I think most of it is under the lake now. About 20 miles north of the park are the joint community of Tonto Basin/Punkin Center. It's slightly more developed, with a couple of neighborhoods, a school, and even a couple of bars! Big city! This is also where my closest internet access is, at the public library, which is also where I will keep myself steadily supplied with VHS (and maybe even DVDs) since I also have no cable. Another 30 miles past Punkin Center is Payson - an actual town in the modern sense. They have all the fast food amenities, banks, shops, and the crowning jewel - a super Walmart. However, this is 50 miles away from the park, so I probably will only make it there every couple of weeks, or if I'm in dire need of Pizza Hut. Probably more often I will make my way about 30 miles south to the town of Globe. Globe has about everything you would need (except a Walmart), plus a certain run-down turn of the century charm, since it began as a old mining town. I live inside the park gates (a gated community!) in a Conquest camper trailer in a little neighborhood comprised of several other park employees. It's plenty of room for one person and I'm settling in nicely, especially now that I've got some filmic entertainment.

What

My official job title is "Visitor Services Intern." Basically, I'm a tour guide. Or I will be once learn enough about the park and gain some more experience. The main attractions of the park are two Native American cliff dwelling ruins, dated sometime in the 1300s, which are titled the "Upper" and "Lower" for reasons I hope are obvious. Visitors can walk unguided up to the Lower Cliffs and explore or they can reserve a spot on a ranger-guided hike to the Upper Cliffs. My job is to learn everything I can about the dwellings, the people that lived there, how they lived, and the natural history of the surrounding area, so I can then relate all this information to visitors. About half of my time, I'll be manning the visitor center desk - taking entrance fees, answering random questions, answering phones, directing people around - and the other half I'll be stationed up at the Lower Cliffs, to further answer questions (most frequently "How many times a day do you have to walk up here?") and provide information. In my first week of work, I was mostly becoming acquainted with all of this and general park procedures. I read (and am still reading) lots of books, observed other park guides, and did a lot of B.S.ing. Eventually, after maybe 6-8 weeks, I will also be conducting my own guided hike to the Upper Cliffs. This will probably be the most interesting, and undoubtedly the most B.S.ing.

When

I work 8-5 (the park's hours), five days a week, until sometime at the end of April.

Why

Why not? It's pretty easy, I'm learning a lot of random stuff, I get to be outdoors half the time, and the uniform is a lot better than Au Bon Pain.

When I first got here, I started to feel a little isolated, since, well, the park is in the middle of nowhere. I really had nothing to do an nowhere to go after work, and I didn't even have any videos to enjoy in my lovely trailer. Plus I had to work six days in a row. But now that I've had a couple days off to explore and become reaquainted with what civilization there is, I'm feeling a little more at home. I rented some movies, I stocked up on groceries, and I took a break from trying to pack my brain with archaeology.

Week 1 down. Only 11 more to go.

In typical rambling fashion, this post wasn't quite as short as I thought it to be, but also not especially eloquent. Shoot me any questions if you have them. I'll need plenty of practice answering them.

Who knows what Week 2 will have in store?! I'm hoping to ride a mountain lion before the end. Keep your fingers crossed.

Here I go again on my own.

Greetings from the Quality Inn of Fort Stockton, Texas!

It's been a week since I left ol' Virginny. Yet only today, on the dawn of a new month, did my journey truly begin. Last weekend I crammed my car to the brim with most of my earthly possessions and early Monday morning, I hit the road. But the first leg of this trip was quite a familiar one. A 12-hour hop, skip, and jump down the beaten path to Louisiana, my home away from home. There I spent another wondiferous week with Shawn. Once again I was reminded of how lucky I am to have him in my life, how I can hardly wait to be with him every day, and how hard it is to tear myself away from him.

This morning, it all had to come to a close one more time, as I bid a very teary goodbye to Shawn, Baton Rouge, and everything east of the Mississippi River. The real journey has begun. I have never driven this far west before, so everything today has been brand spanking new. Although, that's not to say it was incredibly exciting. But it was definitely flat. Flat and brown. Except for the few marvels of modern man that are Houston and San Antonio, where I encountered over- and underpasses grander than I could have ever imagined.

West of San Antonio, things livened up for a little while. Elevation! Trees! Vistas! I've seen places like this in the movies! From a hill-top rest area, I watched the sun set behind the magical new landscape, and then.....monotony. A beautiful view is only beautiful when you can see it. And the towns in West Texas are few and far between. I drove on for about three more hours in close to total darkness - no light pollution, only an occasional blinding headlight. In some places, the radio would seek for 10-15 minutes before finding even one radio station. The 'EMPTY' light glared on the dashboard, but I dared not stop, until finally I coasted into this last outpost of civilization between here and El Paso.

Tomorrow I will arise to complete this near cross-country trek. I anticipate the scenery to be a little more interesting, for at least part of the way - mountains, desert, and I'll actually be able to see Mexico! Then I will settle into my new trailer trash home for the next three months and the adventure begins.

I'm not exactly sure when I will be able to access the intrawebs again, but rest assured I will at some future point. However, if anyone should wish to contact me in a more direct fashion, my cellular phone should still be in service. Additionally, I can heretofore be reached at the following address:


HC02
Box 4602
Roosevelt, AZ 85545


I hope you will pardon the abruptness and lack of witicism in the post, but I have been driving all day and must do so again in a few hours. I hope you all are fabulous, wherever you are, and you should do well to keep me updated on your own goings on.

Off I go, into the Great Blue Yonder, with Whitesnake as my guide!