The Pechanga People
by
Phil Madsen, Expediter
(Written October 25, 2006, for publication on SuccessfulExpediters.com.)
A few hours after completing a run from California to Pennsylvania, we picked up freight in Pennsylvania and headed right back to California. The two trips ran us mostly out of log book hours and left us ready for some welcome time off. When we began to search for a place to rest, we did not know we would soon be guests of a ten-thousand-year-old nation, taking an interest in their history.
Going online, we found an RV campground just a few miles from our delivery. It was part of the Pechanga Resort and Casino in Temecula, California. The campground rules were more stringent than other RV parks we have visited. To be admitted, vehicles must have holding tanks, a kitchen, a toilet and a stand-up shower. Tents and pop-up RV trailers were prohibited. Our rig met the requirements and we were admitted around 10:00 p.m. local time.
The first order of business was sleep. Once parked on our assigned concrete pad between two strips of lush green grass, I connected the water and shore power while Diane opened the bed and turned on the air conditioner. Minutes later, we were settled in for the best kind of sleep; the kind where you don't set an alarm and don't have to worry about when you will wake.
It is true what they say. The simple pleasures really are the best. Having just driven cross country twice, it felt so very good to stop moving, turn off the engine, enjoy the quiet, and know we would not have to move again soon.
On long runs like the two we just completed, we sleep and drive in shifts. Now we were together in bed for the first time in a while. The feeling is hard to describe, but it was wonderful to crawl between high thread count sheets, adjust the Select Comfort Sleep Number bed to our preferred setting, snuggle into four pillows and each others arms, sigh deeply, yawn once and drift into a peaceful sleep before a second yawn came.
To reset our log book hours and just relax, we stayed two nights. The RV park was a short walk from the casino. The casino had seven restaurants and a food court. The food was very good. We ate there a few times during our three-day stay.
I was visiting with the desk clerk one afternoon and commented on how clean the park was. The young man said, "We have a reputation for being tidy." He was not kidding. The grounds, bathrooms, showers and casino were immaculate; so much so that I started looking for dirt. There was none to be found. It is as if they went into every corner with a Q-tip to keep things clean.
More impressive — to me at least — was the history of this place. The Pechanga people have been living in the Temecula Valley for ten-thousand years. Having an interest in history, it was delightful to not only read about the Pechanga people but to visit in person with the descendants of the first Americans who lived where we now happened to be parked.
The ancients named these places ten thousand years ago. Temecula means place in the sun. Pechanga means place of dripping water. I did not raise the topic with any of them but thought to myself that these people's views on illegal immigration are probably broader in scope than those being hollered about on political talk shows today.
Using casino proceeds, the Pechanga people are building a cultural center and investing in their history. You can read about them on their web site.
I spent some time gazing up at one of the tall rocky hills that form the valley. Such hills are common in this part of California. The terrain is too rough for development so the hills exist in their natural state. It was an emotional experience to view that hill and realize I was seeing the exact same thing others saw ten thousand years ago. I felt honored to be a welcome guest in the Temecula Valley on Pechanga land.
Finding myself very much in the mood to learn more about Native Americans, I bought a book in the casino gift shop; Our Stories Remember: American Indian History, Culture, and Values through Storytelling, by Joseph Bruchac, a Native American.
This is new intellectual and spiritual territory for me. Like many Americans of European decent, my knowledge of Native Americans came mostly from TV shows and movies. We played cowboys and Indians as kids, having no knowledge about the Indians beyond what we saw on TV and what the white adults in our world taught us.
As a curious adult resting in the Temecula valley, it was a humbling experience to read about Indian world views and religious beliefs. With a few words, Bruchac opened my eyes to see in new and appreciative ways the land we cross and sky we drive under each day. My reverence grew for the earth and cycle of life.
After the sun set behind the hill, a sliver of the moon soon followed it down. Walking slowly along a quiet street in the RV park, I watched the moon first touch the hill and then sink slowly behind it. Knowing people in this valley have seen the same sight for thousands of years, I wondered what their thoughts might have been when they viewed it. I wondered what the elders told their children about the moon and hill.
As I continued to walk and wonder, the sight lines suddenly changed and there was a clash. The peaceful play of the moon and hill was interrupted by the harsh light of a big-screen TV beaming through a large window in a large RV. I squinted until my eyes adjusted.
The show Married With Children was on. Al and Peg Bundy were sitting on their living room sofa, looking and acting stupid, and having an animated discussion. As I continued to walk and the natural scene returned, I chuckled at the contrast between today's Al Bundy and a Pechanga man the same age who lived ten-thousand years ago.
As I continued my stroll, the natural view was again interrupted by another big screen TV in another large RV. This time I could see an elderly couple seated in their RV, watching Nancy Grace, a loud, provocative, self-rightous, talk show host who entertains people and gets ratings by airing sensational stories and stirring the opinion pot.
I wondered what, if anything, those grandparents teach their children and grandchildren about the earth and sky and the people who share it. These white people in an expensive RV seemed like the type that would feel sorry for the Indians or conveniently write them off because they have not accepted Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and savior, and are therefore destined to burn in Hell.
Their Jesus (and mine) was born 8,000 years after the Pechanga people first lived in this valley; long after Pechanga world views were well established. That too was something to wonder about; but when I next looked, the moon was gone and I had wondered enough this day.
The expediting life and work continues to delight us every day. When prohibited from driving because we are out of log book hours, we can use times and places like this to sleep well, savor good food, enjoy immaculate showers and grounds, and expand our knowledge of and appreciation for the great land we share with its many cultures.