travel the way you say, the road don't like me

one week here and the flagstaff sluggishness has thoroughly set in. i'm indulging it this afternoon: lunch with kristin at cafe espress (since we last talked, we've both been to india and become somewhat interested in our academic "futures," and also started drinking milk, not unrelated to india), a surprise phone call from amy, who flew to lafayette from beirut for a conference and a haircut and called from the airport on her way back to what she now calls "home," and now, sitting at the "new" place at the monte V, which isn't new to anyone but me anymore (the benefits of poor short-term memory and showing up in town sporadically: everything seems new, even years after it actually is), with a glass of cheap shiraz (it's been a while since i drank wine alone in the middle of the afternoon), some articles on wilderness, naming, and indigeous peoples, and a window facing san francisco street, where i can watch the tourists with cameras around their necks reading about the historic babbitt building and the locals and their dogs getting coffee at late for the train. i just created a new "grownup" gmail address solely for the purpose of emailing UNM advisors about the MFA program, but i'm somewhat at a loss as to what to say, and afraid that it will somehow be apparent in my 2-sentence request for a meeting on april 6th that i'm drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon, though this is an MFA program so i guess that's somewhat expected. in short, i'm insecure and indecisive, and struggling with the desire for geographical monogamy (i did, however, score high on the "are you a real alaskan?" quiz (scroll down), and would have scored higher if not for my refusal to answer #7 on priciple. so i don't know if that means anything). kristin wants to study lions in africa, amy might spend the summer in eastern europe, and so far i haven't gotten past "Hello Prof. ___, I".
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so, from the prep reading for my upcoming NPS mini-job at denali:

"So what about roads into the Alaskan wilderness? Oleska (2002) relates:
To Europeans, a road is a social and economic pathway established by humans for their convenience, prosperity and pleasure. They have every right to carve a road anytime, as their needs and desires dictate. But for Native peoples, a road is a threat to the ecosystem that has nourished and sustained them for millennia. A road brings humans into an area they otherwise would ot have access to, and therefore noise, disruption and, potentially, the destruction of the plant and animal species. A road scatters the game, drives animals from their natural home, and destroys their habitat. And if the animals leave, those who depend on their self-offering cannot survive there any longer either...To city residents, roads may be a great blessing, the means by which you are linked to the rest of the world and to the frontier up to which the roads extend. But, if you live in a village, the idea of connecting your community to a city frightens and torments you. A road could mean the end of your culture and possibly your life."

-"Native People and Wilderness Values at Denali," Hollis Twitchell, International Journal of Wilderness, august 2005.
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which of course got me thinking about ladakh, and the mixed blessing of roads everyone talks about in discussions of geographical and cultural isolation: the pros and cons of connection to the "outside world," the birth of a tourist industry and subsequent cultural assimilation (ladakhis and tibetans speaking hindi among themselves. restaurants serving israeli and continental food. punjabi dhabas on every street. but everyone has more money than they did before the roads were built--and in today's world, that matters).
when jessie and i arrived in leh, his cousin harpreet, who's stationed at the indian military base there, picked us up in an army jeep and gave us a tour of the town, and i imagined that as we sped down the main bazar, horn blaring, the locals glared at us with resentment, but i may have projected that reaction onto them. at what point does traditionalism become irrelevent? with how many major roadways can it co-exist?
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that said, i went to wupatki yesterday, and walked a couple miles down the little colorado river road, the shoulder scattered with old beer cans and cattle bones, before visiting ted at the visitor center and talking about intestinal parasites, facebook, and the problematics of slumdog millionaire (still haven't seen it, but that doesn't stop me from preaching about "poverty porn"). it was a beautiful day.
and my wine is gone, i sent some emails, and i just noticed that blogger is giving me the option to type in hindi. strange, since this computer hasn't left the US. hmm.