One in A Million
By Nerizze Pauline L. Tan
A
s soon as the mahogany doors open, leading into his humble abode, the brightest grin in the whole city will greet you wholeheartedly. His cheeks, tinted rosy, glow a healthy 63 years young. The tranquil, clear blue waters float in his hypnotizing eyes and if you’re lucky, maybe he’ll allow you to dive into the depths of his old soul that is filled to the brim with a thousand life stories. He stands with an air of authority surrounding him, but do not be fooled, he is the biggest teddy bear with a heart too big for his body. A man of wisdom and knowledge, Carl Granfors was born in Pontiac, Michigan. He originally graduated from the University of Michigan, where he took his undergraduate degree in General Studies. “I thought I was going to be a lawyer at that time. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t do math! Math sucks!”, Carl jokingly said, as he thought about his early math skills equating to his admission test woes. He is one of the few people whose laugh is so contagious, but genuine at the same time. He is also a proud Master’s Degree holder from the Northern Arizona University, in Flagstaff, Arizona. He is living his life and not just existing. That is what most of the human population tends to forget. After spending a year and a half in Tucson, 1977-78, as a kindergarten teacher, Carl decided to move and take on one of the most challenging experiences that would change his life. Not everyone is mentally and physically fit for struggle. Not everyone can jump head-on into the pitfall with full determination. He isn’t a superhero who saved the world from impending doom, but having a profession as an educator is almost as close to that. “I was absolutely stark crazy! I was a madman!”
12
October 2017
His laugh resonates deep within his belly and bounces around the adobe walls. “Tucson was too hot to tell you the truth. I saw an advertisement for a teacher on the Havasupai Indian Reservation in the paper. I knew I wanted the experience of teaching in the bottom of the Grand Canyon, as soon as I saw the ad. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass on.” He allowed himself to sink into his memory lane and travel nearly forty years back; back to where there was no television (in Supai), no cell phone, “no nothing”, as he said- only books and videos. Back to the old days, back to 1978.. “It was the most unusual work experience I’ve ever had in my entire life. I remember the night I walked into Supai for the first time, it was on a full moon.” He was lost in thought as he attempted to relive his first experiences in Havasupai. “I could hear Bob Marley and the Wailers music playing in the distance, as I walked into the village.” He drifted off again, “Living in such a remote place is really an indescribable experience, understanding the isolation and the remoteness, part of a process.” The Tribe he worked for is The Havasupai Tribe, translating to ‘People of the Blue-Green Water.’ There are books, videos, etc. of the famous Havasupai people and waterfalls on social media and elsewhere. The only way to reach the village is by walking the 8-mile trail from your vehicle, riding a horse, or hitching a ride in the helicopter. “If you need to jump in the car to go get something… forget it. It isn’t going to happen, so you had better be creative. Plan ahead and be creative in problem solving.” Carl didn’t have to worry much about it though, when he did go out of the Canyon. He owned a cool horse named Show Low. (Named for the town or after a gambling term!). He packed Show Low with food, vegetables, fruit, etc. for a week or two, or more. “You mostly had to carry it in yourself.” Since Havasupai is a small community, the teacher housing consisted of just two houses- for the principal and teachers. The town of Supai had 500 or so people at the time. The tribal council was also the school board back then. Usually, with the other Native American tribes, the council was different from the one overseeing the school. Carl interacted with them often as he worked at the Havasupai School. He was a teacher at times for 42 children, all under one roof, with a big bell in front, which used to ring every morning.. (Right after he left, a new school was built, which is being used today.) Communication was also one of the issues Carl had to face when working there. “Once, the telephone line broke, up in Havasu Canyon, during a storm. The maintenance crew needed to go up the Canyon to fix the line. I figured…the sooner it gets fixed, the sooner we will all have service again. As it was a Sunday, help was needed. I actually went with the electricians and the maintenance workers to help them fix the broken line. Communication out was always difficult, it seemed.” It was a struggle- not only with technology but also with language, since the tribe has their own language
