A Place for Vegans to Eat

A year ago, my California family took me to eat at Native Foods Cafe,  a place where no animal products are served. I ordered a hamburger and thought I was eating a beef pattie but was told it was not meat.  A few days ago while I was in California, we traveled to Tustin, California for me to give the restaurant another try. I ordered a Reuben and to my surprise, what looked and tasted like corn beef was something called Native Seitan (Say-Tahn). I read this in the menu: "Known as wheat meat. A hand-made process initiated 2,000 years ago in the Near East and modernized in our kitchens.  Provides a complete protein with a delicate meaty texture.  We proudly prepare all of our Seitan, including our Original Seitan, Sausage Seitan, Peppered Seitan, Mexican Seitan, Reuben Seitan, Native Chili Meat and Taco Meat.  Made from scratch daily." It looks like corn beef and the "corn beef" is sliced thin with sauerkraut piled on a wheat bread. It was an excellent Reuben.

Other Native Meats are Native Tempeh (Tem-pay) made of cultured soybeans, and millet.  Rich in protein, iron and antioxidants; Native chicken made from free range soy, wheat and pea protein; and Native Bacon consisting of thinly sliced tofu marinated in our Chef's secret smokehouse recipe, then baked to a firm texture.

The restaurant was founded by vegan chef, Tanya Petrovna in 1994 due to her passion for fresh food, animals and the environment. A blurb in the menu: "At Native Foods Cafe, our food is made fresh daily -- from our homemade tempeh and seitan, to our Native cheese, to our sauces and drinks, dressings and desserts. Our entire menu is 100% plant-based as we strive to create a compassionate dining experience serving up home made meals that are good for you, your family and the environment."

They serve nachos,Saigon roll, fries, chicken wings,pizza, salads, Italian sub, burgers, wraps, and many other familiar sounding dishes but not a one is prepared with animal products.  The Native Cheese is blending of cashew, sunflower seeds, and other nuts to create texture from creamy to crumbly.




A wall at Native Foods Cafe

Something I did not know is that there is a Native Foods Cafe in Boulder, Colorado!  If I ever become a true Vegan I know where I can go to eat!

Alcalde Mayor

My Cousin and I at Church Street Cafe
in Albuquerque, New Mexico

We would kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes, when my cousin and I visited the land of our ancestors in New Mexico. We were attending a seminar on genealogy and we wanted to visit a church with an altar screen that our great, great, great grandfather had donated to San Jose Church in Laguna. He had been an Alcalde in Laguna, Acoma and Cebolla pueblos. (An Alcalde refers to a government official who acts as a judge and settles disputes. Usually referred to as a mayor or chief judicial official of a Spanish town.) We  found our relative named in The Missions of New Mexico by John L. Kessell and Religious Architecture of New Mexico by George Kubler. He was mentioned in other books and articles but this blog is only going to cover the altar screen.

In The Wall Painting of San Esteban Missions, Acoma Pueblo, New Mexico: A Description and Analysis by Barbara B. Mauldin, my relative is also mentioned. Ms. Mauldin's book was difficult to find but I located one of the three copies available in the United States at the University of New Mexico in the Zimmerman Library. In reading her book I found this information: "An inscription on the side indicates that the work was paid for by the alcalde mayor, Don Jose Manuel Aragon. There are many theories as to the identity of the Languna Santero, but most scholars agree he was probably a provincial artist from Mexico who worked in New Mexico for a few years at the turn of the century and then either left or died.  He made several other screens, including the one in the Laguna Church which was also funded by Don Jose Manuel Aragon."


Jose Manuel Aragon retired as the Alcalde in 1813 and he stated that he had served for twenty years which means he began working as an Alcalde in 1793. I found information that he married Barbara Carmen Duran y Chaves on June 26, 1781 and that he passed away on May 16,1825. One of their children was  Eusebio and Eusebio was the father of Nabor;  Nabor beget Sisto; and Sisto was my mother's father. My cousin is the daughter of Benino, the oldest son of Sisto while my mother was the baby of the family.That is how my lineage is connected to Jose Manuel Aragon. I find it odd that the oldest and youngest of the family died within a month of each other and ended up next to each other (never planned) at Mt. Olivet Cemetery.

     

Church of San Jose
 at Laguna, New Mexico

My cousin and I drove from Albuquerque to Laguna to see San Jose Church.  They do not allow photographs to be taken inside the church yet I was allowed to take one photo.  When the priest heard our story of Don Jose Manuel Aragon being our great, great, great grandfather he gave us a postcard of the altar screen.  He told us that on the back of the screen there is a notation that Jose Manuel Aragon had given the altar screen to the church.  It is presumed that the screen was painted by the Laguna Santero because of the style of form and color.  From pictures I have seen of the church in the past, every time the church is cleaned and repainted, the old patterns are followed. I liked that what I was looking at was pretty much the way it was when my ancestors lived in the area.

Altar Screen donated
to the church by my ancestor.

On My Way to Church

On my walk to Mass.

While visiting my daughter and her family in California, I headed to mass on Sunday morning. It is a about a five block walk to St. Angela Merici church and as I hurried along I began to look around.  Beautiful flowers, tall palm trees, nicely landscaped lawns and a peaceful quietness.  God's wonder was all around me. At home I drive everywhere and miss any scenery that might happen to be sprouting up around me.  An orange-pinkish rose seemed to glow with an inner light.  Purple flowers bowed and danced in the cool morning breeze.  A red rose appeared to be velvet.  The closely trimmed grass looked like a carpet of green.

Red Rose

Rose seems to glow with
its inner beauty!

Not sure what this flower is called.

By the time I reached the church, I was giving thanks for my eyes, for my heart, for my life and for my family.  The walk put me in a very spiritual mode as I entered the church. Once inside the church I looked at the large crucifix hanging over the middle of the altar and saw two shadows of Christ hanging on the cross.  My morning could not have been better as God opened my eyes and my heart to what was around me.

Palm Tree seems to touch the sky!


The shadows on the wall made
this a special picture.

"I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station through which God speaks to us, if only we tune in."
George Washington Carver

4th of July

Out came the galvanized tub for my bath, in I went, out I came nice and clean and on came my new clothes. My brother and I always got a new western outfit on the 4th of July--cowboy shirt, scarf around the neck, jeans, holster with two guns and a straw cowboy hat!

Two Buckaroos!

 When we were all decked out we went to the parade. We usually stood near a park in the shade of large trees and watched the many marching bands, horses, clowns, and decorated floats as they made their way along the wide street. Sometimes, my father would pick me up so I could see the exciting parade. The drums seemed to beat in my stomach.

After the parade we sometimes went to a movie to get out of the hot sun. Other times, I remember, going home and my Mother would make hamburgers for lunch.  A few times we went to Island Grove Park where all the amusement park rides were set up and we walked around.  Dad would ride with us but my Mother never did.  She enjoyed watching us and she usually had a big smile on her face.

As we passed the hamburger stands the smell of  of onions and grease wafting around made my mouth water.  When I asked my Father to buy me one he said, "No, they are too expensive.  For what I pay for one hamburger here, the whole family can eat at home."  To this day, my mouth still waters when I smell hamburgers and onions frying! After I was an adult, one of the first things I did was to buy me a hamburger at Island Grove Park for the 4th of July.  I realize that hamburgers sizzling on a grill smell so much better than they taste!

My Mother did not like rodeos and stayed home while my Father took my brother and me to see the Spud rodeo.  Now a days, it is called the Greeley Stampede. We sat in the cheapest seats which meant we were in the sun.  I remember being very hot, getting sunburned, lots of dust, horses, bulls, and cowboys! At night, we returned to the arena to watch the fireworks.  I loved the bursts of lights but did not like the noise.



My grandson at the Greeley Stampede in 2001

After I moved away from Greeley, I tried to return every 4th of July to see the parade. I have taken friends and family with me, depending on who I could get to go with me on any given year.  The parade has grown so much that the last time I attended it lasted three hours. One year I took my grandson to Greeley so he could experience the parade and rodeo. I bought him a cowboy hat and after the parade we went to the rodeo.






 I asked for seats in the shade and the lady said, "All of our seats are covered." I told her about sitting in the sun and she laughed telling me, "It must be a long, long time since you've been to a rodeo here." She was so right!

This year, I will not be going to Greeley to celebrate the 4th of July but I do know that the memories I have of the holiday will always have a special spot in my mind and heart.

Accumulated Stuff

This photo was taken from AOL Images of
the Waldo Fire as it nears homes.

While looking at horrendous photos of the different fires in Colorado, I chatted with a friend on the phone. We could not get over the many acres that were burning, and had been burning for quite a few days.  South (Colorado Springs), west (Boulder) north (Ft. Collins) and a new fire near Grand Junction. Our hot temperatures of over 100 degrees was not helping!

"If you had to evacuate your home," I asked, "what would you grab first." We discussed photos, things that could not be replaced, pets, clothes, important papers like passports, birth certificates, etc. We hung up and I looked around my house.  I began making a mental note of all the stuff in every room and wondered what I would take with me if I ever had to leave in a hurry.

There was no way I could take the many albums of photos that I had collected through the years. Six large plastic bins with ten or more albums in each.  Those I would have to leave though I knew they held many memories. My personal computer, which was also loaded with photos and my lap top would have to be packed. I realized I had better put all my important papers in one central place, in one large envelope,  so I could easily take them. What about my children's art work....paintings on the wall and pottery through out the house.  My cameras -- video and still. Then I saw my genealogy notebooks....I had to take them after all the years of research I had compiled. What about my favorite book collection?  There was also my newest project of making photo album books.  My CD and DVD's, and the many boxes of slides of when my children were young. The more I looked around, the more things I wanted to take.

I realized how much the evacuees were losing.  They did not have a lot of time to decide what they would take because as I read some of the articles, they had minutes to get out of the fire line.  When I saw the areas in Colorado Springs with whole tracts of developments in ashes, I got a sick feeling in my stomach.  So many people were being left without any thing. One lady said all she had was what she was wearing while a man said he had left his medication behind. This morning the news report was that 346 homes had burned in the Colorado Springs area.

The majority of the evacuees commented that they could rebuild and that they were thankful that they were alive.  I guess making it out alive is the most important thing and it made me wonder why I think it is so important to have material things.  I recalled a class at Regis about a group of islanders who built their one room home on stilts, fished for their daily food, picked fruit from the near by jungle, had a mat to sleep on, and when waves would wash their homes down as it happened every year, they did not lose anything and they would just rebuild.  Maybe that is how we should live instead of accumulating so many things!

An Unfinished Documentary

A pig and a chicken were on their way to breakfast.

They were trying to decide what to have.

The chicken said, "Let's have ham and eggs."

The pig replied, "That's fine for you,

it's a small donation on your part,

but a total sacrifice for me!"  Unknown

Horrible screaming woke me up.  It sounded as if a woman with a high-pitched voice was screaming for help. I jumped out of bed and looked out the window and saw two men struggling with a large pig.  They were attempting to load it unto the back of a pickup truck.  I quickly dressed, grabbed my camera and rushed out to get a closer look.  The pig was huge and fought the two men.  Two other men came running to help and with eight hands they were able to put the screaming pig into the bed of the pickup. I was surprised at the almost human sounds emitting from the grey pig with dark spots.

I looked for my own photos of this day
but was unable to locate a picture. I
got this picture off the internet.

I took pictures of the pig and noticed that it had small eyes with long, beautiful eyelashes.  I had never been so close to a pig and found that it was a handsome and strong animal.  Its course hair felt wirey as I petted the subdued beast. I asked where the pig was headed and was told that there was to be a big feast later in the day.  Immediately, I thought I would video tape the process from beginning to end and maybe call it, "The Life of a Pig, or a Hog's Life." It would be a documentary like National Geographic is known to film! I followed the truck in my jeep to a mountain retreat about seven miles away.

As they got the pig down from the truck, I noticed it no longer screamed.  Did he know what was in store for him? Was he resigned to his fate?  I followed as the big pig, with a rope around its neck, meekly walked to his execution. I got as far as the area where a large 36" pot of water had been placed over a fire. I noticed a long wooden table with metal instruments that looked liked knives and hooks. A rope, two yards long, had been tied between two trees "What happens next?" I inquired. A large bearded man held a sledge hammer in his hand, "I'm going to kill the pig and cook the meat for a party this afternoon." I asked, "How will you kill it?"  He shook his head as if dealing with an idiot, and replied, "I hit it right on the head. It dies instantly."

That's all it took. His comment ended my video taping.  I could not watch the beautiful pig be slaughtered.  I quickly returned to my jeep and drove away as fast as I could. Tears burst from my eyes as I drove away. This may be a norm for farmers, but it was not my idea of a humane way of killing a pig. At the super market, packages neatly wrapped containing pork ribs, pork chops, etc. have never made me think about animals being killed. I cried most of the morning as I recalled the fate of the large pig.  Later that afternoon, I attended  the party.  I did not enjoy myself. When it came time to eat, everyone filled their plates with meat and some went back for seconds. Every one said how delicious the meat tasted but I never touched or looked at the meat.  During the rest of my stay as a volunteer in Mexico, I stopped eating meat whether it was pork, beef or chicken. Just the thought of the pig's short life became a deterrent.

 

"After all, God invented pigs too,

although he did not allow His people to eat pork."

Unknown

Evolution of a Volunteer

The ultimate expression of generosity

is not giving of what you have

but of giving of who you are.

Johnnetta B. Cole

I read somewhere that volunteers are motivated to volunteer for two reasons.  One is ideological, ethical and moral....a sense of helping with needs or problems of others.  The other is a personal reason of feeling useful or living and knowing new experiences.  Either reason ends up helping.


The first time I volunteered was in 1958 while I was a member of the Sodality of Our Lady at Regis College.  We went to help at St. Claire's orphanage located on 32nd Avenue in North Denver.  I entered a white room with twelve white cribs and each crib held a baby dressed in white. I noticed each baby tried to make eye contact but I passed most of the children until I saw a rosy, smiling, healthy looking baby. My job was to feed the babies something that looked like cream of wheat. I remember enjoying feeding the cute babies and resented feeding the homely ones.  To this day, I am ashamed at how selfish I was with my love and time. I know now, they all needed my attention, yet I spent more time with those that appealed to me. I try to excuse my actions by thinking it was my youthful age, that I knew nothing about babies and that I had no experience in volunteering.

Teaching catechism (CCD) in the '60's took me to Cure d Ars in East Denver and to St. Leo's on 10th and Colfax.  What I remember is the difference in the attitude and language of the children as I tried to teach religion to them.  East Denver children were respectful, willing to learn and polite.  The St. Leo's children were rowdy, used vulgar language and had no respect.  Some days I would leave St. Leo's in tears. Wouldn't it be ironic if the St. Leo's children were the ones I did not pay attention to when they were babies?  I know they weren't, but if they were, I was getting my just rewards!

In the late 70's I assisted Fr. Peter Urban in teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) to Hispanic persons in Brighton, Colorado. The one thing I learned in that year was that you can not mix young and old persons.  Young people will learn and retain much faster than an older person.  It was like having two classes....one younger class three or four lessons ahead of the older second class. I noticed that the older people wanted a social hour to chat with their friends while the younger students wanted to learn! 


For two years, around Christmas, I met many other volunteers to wrap gifts for the needy at Fr. Woody's Christmas Party.  Msgr. C.B. Woodrich (Fr. Woody) once said:  We cannot pray to the Lord and reject the ones he loves the most." We were an army of volunteers spending hours wrapping the gifts and then attending the dinner to help distribute the gifts.  I felt such a joy to see homeless children, living in a shelter, so excited with a gift of socks and a toy!

Volunteering at a migrant camp.

Shrine of St. Anne's volunteers
getting ready to go help
Habitat for Humanity.

In the late 1990's, the Shrine of St. Anne's Social Ministry sponsored Habitat For Humanity and Visiting Migrant Camps and I became a volunteer. Self-satisfaction, when I was able to do something to help persons who needed help, was rewarding.  Since I speak Spanish, I enjoyed chatting with the migrant workers, taking photos, interpreting the homily for Archbishop Chaput, and joining the migrant workers and the rest of the volunteers for dinner gave me much pleasure and a happy, content feeling.

Ruben, Angel and Sergio

After eating breakfast
I will take children to classroom.

Volunteering at Santa Maria del Mexicano in Colon, Mexico cinched what volunteering was all about. The first year I taught kindergarten to five year children.  I fell in love with the children, the area, the work, other volunteers, and realized being a volunteer gave me much more than I was able to give! For the next five years, for one week to three month, I returned to the orphanage and watched my little five year old children grow. The last time I visited, one of the boys was eighteen and in the army! Those five years taught me much about volunteering.  Not only did I do what was assigned to me, but anything that needed doing.  I became a taxi, a cook, a tour guide, a babysitter, a supervisor, a mail retriever, a party planner, a teacher, a nurse, a librarian and a cleaning woman.   

Watching the circus!

I had often thought about retiring in Mexico and one time when I was in Puerto Vallarta, I decided to find an orphanage.  My thought was that once I retired and lived in Mexico, I could volunteer at an orphanage.  It took me a while, but I did locate Casa Hogar, a home with children without parents. I found out that when God decides to help out, anything is possible. I was staying at Las Palmas Hotel and the young woman, Emma, who worked in the tourist office decided to help me after I mentioned my idea of taking some children from the orphanage to the circus that was in town. I would buy the tickets and treats but I needed transportation. She miraculously found a bus and she convinced the driver to volunteer his time to pickup the children and bring them to the circus where I would meet them. About twenty children arrived dressed in their best outfits. We bought them chips, peanuts, popcorn,candy and drinks and sat together to watch the different acts.  I spent most of my time watching the awed and amazed children. The excitement and happiness on their faces was wonderful to see! After the show, I went with the driver to return the children to the orphanage.  I got many hugs and "gracias" not only from the children but from the adults in charge of the orphanage. To do something that makes someone happy is a very fulfilling feeling!

Some of the children from
Casa Hogar in Puerto Vallarta

In 2010, I again volunteered through Spirit of Christ to teach ESL in Brighton. This time, we used computerized lessons with Rosetta Stone CD's. With gas prices increasing I could no longer make the long drive to Brighton but I do miss seeing the excited pupils as they learn a new language!


This year, I am volunteering at The Arvada Food Bank.  I am one of six "shoppers" for the day and we help people pick out their groceries. Depending on the size of family, the applicants are given points. Volunteers keep track of the points and help persons "purchase" what they need.  Some days it is not busy but some days I feel as if I am on a Merry Go Round.  I take one person, return and get another person, take that person around and by the time we return, there is someone else ready to shop! I enjoy helping Hispanics who do not speak English because I get to practice my Spanish.  Many persons in line have lost their jobs, others cannot find work, and many are struggling to make ends meet. I overheard a volunteer say, "Consider coming to the food bank as a bump in the road. Soon, I am sure, you will find work and this will just be a memory." As we go through the aisles, some tell me their story, others give me recipes, others love to tell me about their children, one told me how her pregnancy was progressing while others tell me how thankful they are for the food bank. I am grateful for everyone who donates to the food bank and I know I am a better volunteer than when I began in the 50's because I enjoy helping all of the persons asking for help no matter how they look!

My ultimate goal in volunteering is to be like this American proverb:

Actions and words are the windows through which the heart is seen!"