Yesterday I went out to
Chamita, NM, for a visit with the Rundstroms. Ron and Pat have a third of an old long-lot with their own adobe house, and small guest-house for visitors. They're also fans of the old Spanish Aparejo packing system (donkey and mule-based), and had two live assistants on hand,
Amiga and Freighter.
It was a wide-ranging discussion, mostly focused on interactions with the OSE and how priority dates get established, fixed, and yes...negotiated. I met their mayordomo, Eloy Garcia, at the Congreso in Santa Fe
the previous week, so this was a follow-up visit to learn more about the site, the town, and their on-going process of adjudication. Since even earnest lawyers and counsel believe in negotiation, mediation, it's no wonder that ditch dates would seem... flexible. For engineers hiring free-lance historians, it's also no wonder that all they want is a single date, a year, a month, a day (if possible). And for historians who consult for OSE on priority dating of ditches, they are caught in a double-bind of knowledge: They know that Spanish colonization plans, the village template in other words, called for an
immediate establishment of both acequia and church. But they also tend to work empirically. So if they cannot find an actual archival document that says 1598, but rather a paper that first mentions the acequia in 1724 (for example), then that is the date that gets advanced to the OSE as a proposed priority date. That Chamita is on the fringes of what was the old Spanish capital of
San Gabriel (1598, until 1610 when it was moved to Santa Fe by Peralta or Montoya) creates an issue for current inhabitants. So, the short version of a long story: The OSE claims that the ditch was not used since the "capital" was moved to Santa Fe. I'm sure, by way of analogy, that Philadelphia would love to hear that it was "abandoned" when the U.S. capital was moved to Washington, D.C. But this is the form of logic used in adjudication: You honor and pay attention to the history that is convenient for your case. But even that history is a bit murky, as a
recent piece by Marc Simmons illustrates.
History indurates in these adjudication proceedings, so it's not fair to say that New Mexicans live "in the past." Rather, the past comes back to live with them, and proving empirically that beneficial use continued throughout the four centuries has now been shifted to rural inhabitants. The lack of good archival research, and
on-hand resources here in New Mexico, is also a notable problem. And it's not easy combing through old documents to reconstruct the intents or meanings of colonizers. Here's
one example, from 1704, based on deVargas last will.
So let's use a worst-case scenario. It's late summer 1598, and Onate calls for the digging of the first
acequia ditch at San Gabriel. We know he used auxiliary labor from nearby San Juan, but still, the ditch was dug. In 1680, Pope of
Ohkay Owingeh (San Juan Pueblo) coordinates the Pueblo Revolt, and force the Spanish and many Genizaros out of northern New Mexico, back to El Paso. We also know that when deVargas returned in 1692-93, those ditches were still being used by the Pueblo (everywhere). The ditches, unlike many of the churches, were left intact. The Pueblo continued to use the canals as a new form of hydraulic infrastructure. Only the faith-based structures had a rough time riding out the Pueblo revolt of 1680. So once settlers return to the area of Espanola, Chamita, Santa Cruz, they go back to using the acequia their ancestors and neighbors built and re-occupy the old site of San Gabriel. How do you "prove" beneficial use if the canal is in other hands for a while? The burden of proof is almost insurmountable, save for early mentions of the ditch building by Onate, and it is disingenuous of the OSE to expect communities to have colonial documents on hand to empirically prove this. If they hadn't, the community wouldn't be there.
We ended the day, after a wonderful meal, with a tour on the basic layout of the acequia itself, from its original diversion point off the Chama River, through the village, to the transboundary line between Chamita and Ohkay, to its final desague into the Rio Grande River, near the old bridge. This joint-use ditch, shared between Chamita and Ohkay Owingeh, is a perfect illustration of why the past is not just "history," but continues to inform relationships at the local level to this day, and adjudication brings out adversarial notions of historical occupation of sites. This form of historical-geographic territoriality is illustrated when Ohkay begins to deploy old toponymy, such as the
Yungue sign near Country Road 56, reminding all who pass that "San Gabriel" is a thing and culture of the past, as they re-assert indigeneity with the re-naming process. I'll simply end with these questions: Who is Pueblo, and who is Spanish in Chamita or Ohkay? When two brothers, one claiming Ohkay identity, the other Hispano stockman, can stand in for each "side," the sharpness of cultural boundaries is blurred. And this highlights how ethnicity is claimed, contextual, and constantly morphing in New Mexico.
Yesterday I went out to Chamita, NM, for a visit with the Rundstroms. Ron and Pat have a third of an old long-lot with their own adobe house, and small guest-house for visitors. They're also fans of the old Spanish Aparejo packing system (donkey and mule-based), and had two live assistants on hand, Amiga and Freighter. 
So let's use a worst-case scenario. It's late summer 1598, and Onate calls for the digging of the first acequia ditch at San Gabriel. We know he used auxiliary labor from nearby San Juan, but still, the ditch was dug. In 1680, Pope of Ohkay Owingeh (San Juan Pueblo) coordinates the Pueblo Revolt, and force the Spanish and many Genizaros out of northern New Mexico, back to El Paso. We also know that when deVargas returned in 1692-93, those ditches were still being used by the Pueblo (everywhere). The ditches, unlike many of the churches, were left intact. The Pueblo continued to use the canals as a new form of hydraulic infrastructure. Only the faith-based structures had a rough time riding out the Pueblo revolt of 1680. So once settlers return to the area of Espanola, Chamita, Santa Cruz, they go back to using the acequia their ancestors and neighbors built and re-occupy the old site of San Gabriel. How do you "prove" beneficial use if the canal is in other hands for a while? The burden of proof is almost insurmountable, save for early mentions of the ditch building by Onate, and it is disingenuous of the OSE to expect communities to have colonial documents on hand to empirically prove this. If they hadn't, the community wouldn't be there. 
We ended the day, after a wonderful meal, with a tour on the basic layout of the acequia itself, from its original diversion point off the Chama River, through the village, to the transboundary line between Chamita and Ohkay, to its final desague into the Rio Grande River, near the old bridge. This joint-use ditch, shared between Chamita and Ohkay Owingeh, is a perfect illustration of why the past is not just "history," but continues to inform relationships at the local level to this day, and adjudication brings out adversarial notions of historical occupation of sites. This form of historical-geographic territoriality is illustrated when Ohkay begins to deploy old toponymy, such as the Yungue sign near Country Road 56, reminding all who pass that "San Gabriel" is a thing and culture of the past, as they re-assert indigeneity with the re-naming process. I'll simply end with these questions: Who is Pueblo, and who is Spanish in Chamita or Ohkay? When two brothers, one claiming Ohkay identity, the other Hispano stockman, can stand in for each "side," the sharpness of cultural boundaries is blurred. And this highlights how ethnicity is claimed, contextual, and constantly morphing in New Mexico. 
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