"Every man's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." Hans Christian Andersen
Sunday, August 23, 2009
This is typically the biggest weekend of the year in my hometown of Santa Fe. From across the United States, Native Americans come to the annual Santa Fe Indian Market, where they sell their handicraft and participate in indigenous competitions. All the vendors are juried beforehand, so the quality of goods is very high. The challenge to be accepted is fierce because so many people come to see and buy. For many of the Indian artists, this is an opportunity to earn the bulk of their incomes for the year. During the event, they dress in their finest clothing to mingle, feel at one with other natives, and sell. Booths are set up around the city plaza, at the heart of Santa Fe, and each vendor has his own space with a placard indicating their name and tribe. Throngs of people converge during opening hours, some lining up from the break of dawn on the first day to be the first to buy from their favorite artist.
Some of the fun events are traditional singing and dancing, and native fashion shows. I like walking among the crowds and noticing the Indians from different tribes across the land. Usually they are brown people with jet black hair, brown eyes, broad faces and high cheekbones, who come from their home reservations; mostly rural locations.
“The world is one country, and mankind its citizens.” Baha’u’llah
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