Sulu...The Revelation Pt. 1

When I was seven years old I was sent into the world of mystery and imagination, otherwise known as the heart of the reservation. I spent time around the Ganado and Steamboat, AZ area, and what I thought was the worse part of my childhood was actually the essential.

The majority of the time I was left alone at my grandmothers home in Kinlichee, AZ, and loneliness plagued my young mind. But there was one constant that I could always depend on and that was my grandmothers record player. Music saved me from going crazy, but this is another story. The other constant were the visitors that came by the house.

My grandfather was there but he lived in a separate home from my grandmother and he wasn't hesitant in telling me how I wasn't wanted there. But I dealt with it.

Hank Mannie was my original grandfathers biological brother and he was the one who ignited the fire that would eventually consume me. "Why can't you be Johnny Cash?", he used to tell me because he knew of my deep affinity for the Man in Black. But what got my real attention was the stories he used to tell. Stories of the Gods and Twin heroes that protected the land from monsters. White shell woman and her journey to the sea, and especially the Gods in the sky.

One thing to keep in mind is that as a child I spoke my Dine (Navajo) language exclusively. The elders only spoke Dine which kept me ingrained in my culture.

"They are watching us, especially in the dawn. Before the sun rises you wake up with your medicine bag and when the first ray of sunlight comes, you offer prayers and then pinch some corn pollen", he instructed me.
I am ever grateful for my grandfather's teachings.

What I never forgot was the stories of "the Gods in the Sky". He told me that they used to live with us long ago and gave stone tablets to our brothers, the Hopi, to watch over. Furthermore, he told me of people who came from the big waters and how our ancestors used to fly.

Hank was a great teacher, but I also learned from numerous other elders about prophecies from other cultures.

During the summer of 2008 I had enough of all I could get from reading books and hearing from other people. By this time I had been collecting information and stories for years, so I felt that it was time for me to see these places for myself.

My main destination was to see the Hopi Prophecy rock that was located in Oraibi, AZ on the Hopi Reservation, but I was not prepared for what I was going to encounter.

The first day of my trek I left to spend a night at my grandmother's place in Burnside, AZ. My initial arrival there brought up some memories of my childhood which led to visit some old places I spent time in. The places I once resided are so far apart and vast that I couldn't visit all the places I wanted to see but it was very therapeutic.

The next morning I met a friend of mine to go along with me to the Hopi reservation. I had researched this place for so long that I knew exactly where I wanted to go, but once I got into Steamboat I started feeling a little nervous. Soon we were in Keams Canyon and passing on through and got into Polacca. It was here in this town that I met a messenger.

The town of Polacca sits at the foot of a mesa and there is a road that goes to the top. I didn't know what was up there but for some unexplainable reason I felt that I needed to get up there. The road is a steep climb with jagged rocks sticking out into the narrow road, but I was determined. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to come upon.

Walpi, AZ Hopi-Tewa Village

It was the Hopi-Tewa village of Walpi that I came upon. It was like stepping back in time because the people who resided there lived in old Adobe homes. I was amazed with what I had seen. The feeling that had brought me here was now self evident.

There were numerous homes there and I felt that feeling once again. There was a reason why I came here, to this village, and I knew I had to meet someone or something. So we stopped and parked near the edge of the cliff, which was like a 100 foot straight down fall with jagged rocks all the way down. There is also a staircase that led from the top of the mesa all way down to the bottom.

So we parked and walked around the homes and guided by the feeling I had inside. I walked up to a home that had a sign advertising crafts for sale. There was an elderly gentleman sitting outside the home that I walked up to and he greeted us. He hurried us into his home with three other men inside the home. The sad part was that all four of them were intoxicated. But I noticed one of the men looked at me and immediately backed off and disappeared into the corner of the home.

We sat for an hour talking about the painting they were trying to sell and how they needed the money. I told them that we weren't looking to buy any crafts and they began to get a little upset about my reluctance to purchase anything from them. So I began to doubt the feeling that had brought me here.

Then one of them asked why we had come to their village. I told him I was looking for something that maybe I was chasing ghosts. So after about an hour I stood up and informed them that we had to get going. I had planned to be in Old Oraibi before the afternoon but I had got into this conversation that put me behind my schedule.

We walked out and my friend noticed that I was disappointed.

"Maybe you will find whatever it is you're looking for in the next town", I was told. I nodded in agreement. But I was so sure about the feeling that brought me up here.

The walk back to the car all I thought about was how I might be wasting my time here. Maybe there was nothing left here to discover and what I believed was not real. I felt lost and I didn't know which way to go anymore. I stood at the edge of the cliff looking out onto the town below then looked west to second mesa and towards the town where the UFO's had apparently made contact with the Hopi Elders. Maybe it was just all folklore and nothing else. I stood there losing my faith.

Then I heard a voice.

"Hey", is what I heard from behind me. I turned and saw it was the man that had retreated into the corner of the home running after us. His glasses were barely hanging on to the tip of his nose and his sandals made loud floppy sounds as he ran. Some of the residents were now peering out their doorways watching what was going on.

"Wait, don't leave yet", he yelled again. I stood there just watching him make his way towards us. He ran with a red book in his right hand and his left arm outstretched towards me. He was short of breath by the time he got to me. I told him to take some time to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry", he said, "but I got scared when I saw you because I dreamt of you before", he said.

I didn't know how to respond.

"I knew I would see you someday up here, I wish I could have been in a better place of mind when we met but once I saw you, I sobered up right at that moment", he told. "Whatever brought you here you must keep following it and don't lose your faith in it. Its who you are and what makes you different".

He talked about his lineage of being Hopi/Tewa and how he was raised traditionally and left the reservation to go to college when he was younger in Flagstaff, AZ. He came back to the Hopi reservation to relearn his culture and keep his fathers legacy going forward but he failed at doing what he wanted to do. He was lost.

"You will see soon", he told me. Then his eyes got big and he got excited and opened up his red covered book. He ripped out the first page of his book and told me to remember some Hopi and Tewa words for when I came again. He instructed me on how to pronounce it and introduce myself when the time came. Then his eyes lit up again and then he wrote down some poems on the same piece of paper. He was so excited. He was a writer, or used to be he said, before he had his writers block. He said, I had given him back his inspiration.

Faron Sulu, was his name, a man whom I never met until that day was in disbelief of my arrival which shocked him into consciousness. Mr. Sulu had a message for which he could only remember half. I didn't press him hard into trying to remember the rest of what he had to tell me because he was already so upset with himself, but I got what I was looking for.

He was starting to tear up a bit and hugged me. Faron invited me back for the dances and hoped that we could run into one another again down the road but he doubted it. He walked off back into the village disappearing amongst the homes.

I had gotten what I was looking for. After that I knew I had to keep pressing onward. We went into Oraibi and I visited the Hopi prophecy rock. There the feeling was so intense that I thought I was going to lift off my feet and levitate off the ground. I felt 'complete' at the moment. Like I was supposed to be there, meant to be there.

Dan Evehema, one of the last four remaining Hopi elders, had died four years prior to my arrival, he was the one person that I was looking to find, or who I thought I was supposed to find. I never felt a calmness like what I felt when I stood there touching the rock and running my fingers along the etchings of the human timeline.

I still have the page the Mr. Sulu gave me as a homage to our meeting and its a reminder to myself that I was really there and I was meant to be there at that specific time of day, at that exact hour. I listened to what he said, I keep moving on to other things I learned and continue to learn. Maybe its all just folklore but all stories are based on some type of real event and that's what we mustn't forget.