The Road to Diamond, Day 136: Little Bridges

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April 13, 2025- Three new people joined our breakfast group this morning, After introducing ourselves, the conversation went, as it usually does, to our places of origin. The gentleman next to me said he was from Iowa, so I called over another Post member who is from that state, and after a bit, he called yet another Iowan, who turned out to be the new guy’s classmate, graduated 1959! The two old chums conversed and a bridge was built.

A second newcomer, hearing I was from New England, and with a French-Canadian surname, said that he, too, was of French-Canadian descent, but that his ancestors headed west-to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. My ancestors were roofers and farmers. His were lumberjacks. Another bridge was built.

After breakfast, I went to take care of an administrative matter, which entailed going to visit another Baha’i couple at their home. The simple five minute task relaxed into a two-hour visit, with our conversation running the gamut from a large man’s service as a security guard at the Baha’i World Center to mutual friends’ experiences in New Mexico and Montana. Of course, medical stuff was part of the discourse, as it always is for people of a certain age. The bridge was strengthened.

Back at Home Base I, I found trash strewn on the side of the street, at the home of a neighbour who was away for the weekend. Grabbing my push broom and uprighting the trash bin, I began the process of separating recyclable material from items that could be donated to a thrift store and putting the unusable stuff back in the bin. I was joined by my landlord, and the task was finished in five minutes. The bridge was cleaned.

As the sun rises and sets each day, so are there opportunities to connect one to the other. All it takes is awareness, real awareness, of one’s surroundings.

The Road to Diamond, Day 135: An Overdue Reunion

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April 12, 2025- The cousins had not seen one another for forty years, though they have spoken by phone on several occasions. Their embrace was timeless and classical, reflecting the universality of family and of the human need for continuity.

Reunited
Bobot, Thelma and Celeste after dinner, with a “stealth selfie” of yours truly.

Coming from large families, on both sides, I thoroughly appreciated what was transpiring, in this well-appointed home, on Phoenix’s far south side. The Filipina cousins re-cemented routes that had never really been severed, over a delectable meal of chicken adobo and steamed kalabasa(squash). I will hopefully meet with some of my own cousins next month, though our parting has not been anywhere near as long.

The day began well, with visits to Prescott Farmers’ Market and Zeke’s Eatin’ Place. Each of my local friends were gracious and welcoming to Babot and Thelma. The visits afforded them free samosas and enough food from Zeke’s to keep them for another day or so.

We next drove down to Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, in Eloy. There was a great temperature difference between there and Prescott, so we kept our outdoor time to a minimum. The caretakers were busy with another matter, so after brief conversations with them,we conducted our own tour. I made what I thought was a comprehensive video, using my i-Phone, only to later find that it had somehow jammed and ended up recording nothing. (Note to self, next time use the camera. It doesn’t depend on cell towers.) I have photos from a January visit here, and Bobot took his own video, which I hope turned out better. In any case, my friends enjoyed this little bit of Baha’i property.

The last journey on my watch, from Eloy to Phoenix, was marred by neither dust storms nor heavy traffic. We found the house easily, and after showing my friends that the best way to get someone to let them in to a house was by pressing the doorbell, rather than relying solely on the phone, the joyful reunion was complete.

I drove back to Home Base I, a bit tired, but happy that the week has been a fair success.

The Road to Diamond, Day 134: Twin Greetings and A Little Victory

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April 11, 2025- Macy’s European Coffee Shop, a cornerstone of Flagstaff’s Near South Side, was quieter than usual, in late morning. I was pleased that the shop’s owner, Tim Macy, was present and able to meet Bobot and Thelma. They enjoyed-we enjoyed-a light breakfast and fine coffee. Under ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s watchful gaze, a spiritual bond between America and the Philippines extended to Flagstaff.

Eyes of the Master
Bobot, Thelma and the Master
Macy's European Coffee House 2
Bobot and Thelma in front of Macy’s

The next stop was a persistent and generous pool: Montezuma Well remains the repository of a spring-fed stream, holding its own, despite an infusion of algae, along its rim. A limestone sinkhole that receives 1,500,000 gallons of water a day from the spring, it was a source of sustenance for the Southern Sinagua people, in the first millennium A.D./C.E., and is a source of inspiration for the people of the Upper Verde Valley today.

Montezuma's Well
Rim of Montezuma’s Well

What was sweetest about this visit is that, for the second day in a row, Thelma overcame her acrophobia and approached the rim, then walked down a flight of stone steps to the closest approach still available to the source spring. The counselor in me still celebrates people overcoming their fears.

MZW 2
Thelma and Bobot near the source of Montezuma Well

Our small celebration of this step forward came at another of my favourite spots: Rafter Eleven. I have been going there, pretty much since Dawn Wasowicz opened the establishment. Dawn has developed the restaurant and tasting room, as a venue for local artists and a community gathering place, over the past eleven years. She was also pleased to meet my two friends and they found the ambiance-and their scones, quite pleasing as well.

A brief shopping trip (for Bobot) ended their last full day in northern Arizona. Tomorrow, we will stop at Farmers Market and Zeke’s, then head south, to Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, and back up to Phoenix, where I will bid my friends farewell, and they will enjoy some extended family time, before leaving for other parts of the U.S.

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The Road to Diamond, Day 132: Red Rock Road

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April 9, 2025, Williams, AZ- The perfect spot, where my friends have stayed for the past two nights, is going to be perfect for another couple this weekend. I have found another Friday night room for Bobot and Thelma, so all is still well.

We headed east and north, this afternoon, after a hearty lunch at Pangaea Bakery. The first stop would have been Jerome, but parking was not available, so Tuzigoot became our spot to try out my camera’s record feature-and my video skills. They need work, to say the least, but here are a couple of fairly post-worthy clips.

Friends enjoying their first visit to Tuzigoot.
This shows the living situation of First Nations people in the Verde River Valley of Arizona, in the Eleventh Century, AD.
The Sinagua people built these units, as part of a settled community.

After exploring Tuzigoot, we headed to the Chapel of the Holy Cross, high in Sedona’s red rocks, at the edge of Schnebly Hill. Here are my friends, at the Peace Marker and in front of the chapel.

Red Rock day trip
Bobot and Thelma at Peace Marker
Front of Chapel of the Holy Cross
Bobot and Thelma in front of Chapel

We made a brief visit to the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park, near Sugarloaf Mountain, on Sedona’s north side. My videography was not suitable for sharing, but the friends seemed to enjoy it.

We capped our Sedona visit with a stop at Tlaquepaque, a crafts and restaurant market, modeled after the open air market of the same name, that graces Guadalajara, Jalisco.

The entry arch at Tlaquepaque
Bobot and Thelma in front of entry arch

As we walked in, a little girl had latched onto a sandal, and was doing her 16-month-old best to show Mom and Grandma that she had mastered the One Shoe Strut. Since it was a display item at a shoe vendor, Mom took it off and put it back on the rack. Oh, the indignity of it all!

We met up with an amalgam of other Filipinos, in front of a coffee and ice cream shop, where I got an Arnold Palmer and the friends, some Gator Aid. We next visited a couple of fountains, and stopped in front of Bell Rock, after which it was time to head out of Sedona, and up the mountain, by way of I-17.

Fountain shot
Bobot and Thelma at a fountain in Tlaquepaque
Bell Rock
Bobot and Thelma at Courthouse Rock, with Bell Rock as backdrop

After a satisfying dinner at My Pita Wrap, in one of South Milton Road’s plethora of mini-malls, we headed here, to the Gateway to the Grand Canyon, and El Rancho Motel-our roost for these two nights. Tomorrow, another couple will be introduced to the South Rim!

The Road to Diamond, Day 131: Camaraderie

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April 8, 2025- I had figured on twelve people attending the Feast of Jalal, this afternoon. Thirteen were present. My Filipino Baha’i friends made ten more spiritual siblings, as we enjoyed a primarily musical devotional. The consultation afterward was equally rich, and we all had a joyful social period afterward.

Later this evening, my hiking buddy joined the three of us for dinner at the superb WZ Asian Buffet. Many such restaurants are touch and go, health-wise, but this one is well-managed and keeps both hygiene and variety of fare in mind. We each had a great meal and another bond was established between my Arizona and Philippines families.

Here are some scenes from other points in the day. (Photos from the Baha’i gathering and the dinner were taken by others, so I will post them as they are shared with me.)

At Air Bnb in Prescott
At Courthouse Square, Prescott (above and below)
At a seriously diminished Lynx Lake

I’m always looking for ways to connect people with one another, across both real and imagined divides.

The Road to Diamond, Day 129: Cleansing

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April 6, 2025, Kingman- On a table, in the backyard work area of our Quad, there is a sturdy aluminum pot, left behind by a now incarcerated former neighbour. The pot is caked in some sort of goop, and once it is cleaned, later this week, it will be given over to the Disabled American Veterans, along with any other items that may still be on the front wall of the property just to our south.

I believe in making left-behind items available to families in need, instead of stocking the landfill at Sun Dog. So, a man’s bicycle, a large pasta strainer, two or three chairs, a few lamps and the aforementioned pot could be still there, waiting for me to take to the Thrift Store on Tuesday morning.

This morning, at breakfast with some fellow veterans, I found myself in a self-deprecating mood when one of the guys teased me about what he thought was my lack of a love life. Thinking back on my teenage years, it was not hard, this morning, to joke about being seen as less than desirable by some of the A-list girls. It felt like a sort of cleansing, as it’s been a long time since such a judgmental pecking order has mattered to me. It feels nice to be in a self-assured frame of mind-and I have my marriage of 29 years, and the Baha’i Teachings, to thank for that confidence.

There is another sort of cleansing afoot, as the Federal Government whittles away at part of many people’s savings, including my own. I will continue to live as I see fit-mostly in a frugal manner, but also doing things like hosting a couple of friends from the Philippines, this week, and visiting family and friends back East, in May. The wealthy officials who are telling us to tighten our belts, are themselves doing whatever they feel like. I will thus do what I feel is right, including some of what I want to do.

So, here I am in this crossroads city, and tomorrow, will head to Las Vegas, pick up my two friends and introduce them to Arizona, over the next six days. All of this feels very cleansing.

The Road to Diamond, Day 128: Walls and Wire

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April 5, 2025- “Making bridges out of walls that keep us apart”-line from a 1970s Baha’i song.

A few things became clearer today, after two videos were shown of the situation at the border between the United States and Mexico. First, as I had suspected after my own visits to border communities, over the past thirty-seven years, the communities on either side of the frontier are tightly-knit, one to the other. This is not just true of First Nations communities, like the Tohono O’odham and Quechans. The two cities that are both called Nogales-one in Arizona, the other in Sonora-are no more easily divided than, say, the Kansas Cities, or the Niagara Falls. Borders,necessary as they are to our own contrived sense of social order, are essentially artificial. We need national borders, for our concept of organization to make sense-the same way we need family dwellings and property; towns and cities; counties, states, provinces, prefectures and oblasts.

The second instance of clarity is the futility of maintaining border as illusion. An octogenarian woman from southern Arizona walked segments of the border, in her video, and showed even a few militia members that there are both gaps in the iron wall and places where cartel members have dug underneath the bollocks and spires. The government can police entry and exit from this country to a certain extent, but no less a conservative voice than Phil Boas, of The Arizona Republic, has noted that the Mexican cartels have a presence in all 50 states, all parts of the Americas and the four other inhabited continents, as well.

There are two features of human life that are primarily feeding the strength of the cartels: The natural mobility of the human race and the perceived need of many for an external substance that can provide a sense of personal security/self-worth. It was pointed out that both of these factors have been turned into revenue sources, by the international criminal element-aided and abetted by certain of the international financial and political elite. Personal safety has been shaken, in many villages of Latin America and Africa, by the very same gangs who then offer transport to the United States or western Europe-at a premium. Substances, both natural and man-made, are trafficked by the same entities. All of these activities are promulgated at the point of a gun, or even more serious weapons, like armed drones and artillery.

Walls and wire are offered by the flip side of the same coin that is represented by the cartels. The one engages in disorder; then, the other comes in and offers to solve the problem, through a heavy hand. It’s a timeless story, and yet, we have failed, as a species, to put two and two together.

The solution is perhaps long to yet come, but it entails self-awareness; self-love and self-discipline. Only when the communities of the world are comprised primarily of emotionally and spiritually mature people, can we hope to cast off the twin controlling agents of autocracy. I am seeing glimmerings of hope, in that regard, with open resistance to overbearing governments, in countries across the globe (South Korea, Bangladesh, the Philippines, Poland, Syria and Brazil being recent examples) and more nascent, but still lively, resistance to the cartels, in certain communities of both the Americas and the “Old World”. We saw evidence of both, today, in all 50 states, every U.S. territory and in several other countries with large American diaspora.

Rising past autocracy takes personal discipline, and that takes self-love.

The Road to Diamond, Day 127: Peace Summit

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April 4, 2025- The crumpled sheets of paper were strewn about the meeting room. It was obvious that this was done deliberately, though toward what end remained to be revealed. We were treated to explanations of artwork that showed the long-term responses to Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Bikini Atoll. Man’s resilience, following horrific acts of war, is worthy of celebration. What is abhorrent is that such acts of war are even deemed essential by many of those in power.

The presentations of the artwork were followed by a woman’s heart-rending account of her own traumas, and how she was able to rise above them, enter a satisfying career (teaching Biology) and raise a family. Meditation, yoga and personal discipline all came into play, in this process. Hers is a life worthy of emulation.

A veteran police officer described his work, in humanizing his profession, and the image of his comrades. Much of his efforts were in response to the slayings of George Floyd and Breanna Taylor. The example of the Detroit Police Department’s having Blue (Law enforcement) and Green (mental health response) divisions was presented, with the notation that the two divisions work hand-in-glove.

Getting back to the crumpled papers: The after-lunch presentation dealt with issues of human trafficking. Each sheet of paper, as it turned out, had the photo and basic information, about a particular missing youth. We each picked up one or more sheets of paper off the floor and tacked them to the “Missing” bulletin board. This simple act served to remind the group that trafficked children and teens are an enormous issue, across the population-but especially among First Nations and African-American communities. (I wrote, recently, about Emily Pike, the slain Apache teenager, whose case remains open.) Add to these the trafficked undocumented immigrants, and the matter assumes gargantuan proportions.

These aspects of working towards peace were then summed up by three Yavapai College Student Government Association officers, who went over all the considerations their board has to ponder, in making sure that their constituents’ needs are heard and addressed. No one issue can be ignored, in favour of one or two other “more pressing” (in the view of dominant groups) matters.

This is a first-time effort by the college, so its promotion and programming will no doubt be the focus of improvement and expansion, should the Administration and Student Body choose to make it an annual event. Coming the day before a nationwide day of protest against real and perceived grievances that many groups have with the recent actions of the Federal government, the format of dialogue and making the case for peaceful resolution would seem to be something that needs to be put forth on a continuous basis.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world” should not relegate to cliche status.

The Road to Diamond, Day 126: Reset

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April 3, 2025- The bandage that was placed on my left facial cheek, to stay there for 48 hours, is still there. It will come off tomorrow and a short period of going about with a sutured face will continue until next Wednesday. Then the true healing, the reset of sorts, will begin.

On Monday, I will pick up my two guests from the Philippines, at their home-stay in Las Vegas, and bring them to Arizona for 6-7 days. We will enjoy a variety of experiences, many of them in natural beauty and several that will involve gatherings with friends of mine around the state. It will also be a reset of sorts.

This evening, I attended a crowded dinner meeting of Prescott Indivisible. I had more conversation with my table mates than I have had there in the past. There were also two calls for a show of hands, as to who will attend a protest march in a few days’ time. I will be working at Farmers Market, at the time of the march, so my hand did not go up. Though the door monitor glared and loudly cleared his throat, when I left early to attend another meeting, I owed neither him nor anyone else an explanation. The speaker at the gathering said it best: “None of us has a monopoly on the truth”. There is a nascent reset of attitude, among those on both sides, who have viewed others with disdain. The pain that the nation is beginning to experience will humble a good many people.

After attending an online discussion of Baha’i Teachings, I went to return to my other online sites. The browser was undergoing a reset, and so I had to re-enter a few accounts. Rebooting seems to be a part of life everywhere today.

The Road to Diamond, Day 124: Judgment

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April 1, 2025- I received three unrelated photos from a friend, this evening. There is no context and no explanation; just a puzzle. Maybe that is this person’s idea of an April Fool’s joke. In any case, I pass no judgment on them. They were nice photos, in any case.

People spent the day sending one another outlandish, ludicrous stories. Those who are aware of what day this is, responded with outlandish yarns of their own. It was a good day for such things. Even the stock market told itself everything is pretty much okay. No judgment there; I’ll take the small gains.

There are some judgments that do irk me: The woman with the perfect life, who looks down on mothers with problems; conversely, the “free spirit”, who finds fault with the counterpart who has tied self to a more conventional life; finally, the above-board thug, who makes others toe an untenable line, knowing that when things fall apart, it’ll be the little guys who take the full heat.

Life can be hard. I see those who are struggling, and having been there, I know there is only one way to make things right: Ask how I can be of help, without adding fuel to the guilt fire or toxic liquid to the gallon jug. Expect the person to do something for self, but don’t just sit and watch the writhing, the shaking, the wailing. Know that it is always about more than money, or thoughts and prayers. It is always about heart and soul.