Getting a Sense of Santa Fe’s Native Origins

I spent the holidays in Santa Fe, N.M., which to me is one of the most magical places. But between the art galleries, fine food and silver jewelry, it’s easy to forget that the quaint little town is surrounded by some of the poorest communities in the country--Native American reservations.

Tribal craftsmen set up shop everyday in front of the Palace of the Governors in Santa Fe’s central Plaza to sell pottery, necklaces and dolls to passersby. But for the most part, Native Americans are virtually invisible in the area’s restaurants and hotels. A notable exception is Hotel Santa Fe, which is owned and partially staffed by Native Americans. It’s been my favorite place to stay since I first visited the town five years ago.

The hotel is 51% owned by the Picuris, one of 19 Pueblo tribes living in New Mexico. The rest is held by private investors. The Picuris were able to successfully finance the building with a loan guaranteed by the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs. The place has been popular with tourists, save a couple of lean years, and soon will be building a new wing.

The terraced adobe building, located about six blocks from the Plaza and opened in 1991, was decorated for Christmas with rows of glowing faralitos (paper bags with sand in the bottom and candles inside). And the lobby, warmed by a sputtering kiva, was filled with the sounds of Native American flute playing.

Hotel Santa Fe is a departure from the manufactured authenticity of some lodgings in the Southwest. The rustic, Pueblo-inspired architecture is realistic and the grounds are covered with sculpture and art created by Picuris and other Native Americans. The hotel, which has a small library of books about Native Americans, often hosts lectures, musical groups and dancers.

On Christmas Eve, my fiance and I took a day trip to Taos, and decided to stop and visit our hosts at the Picuris Pueblo, which is open to the public. The Picuris population hovers at about 330, but 500 years ago it numbered close to 30,000, according to the tribe’s Web site, https://www.picurispueblo.com.

The reservation is just an hour’s drive north of Santa Fe, but it’s worlds away. The crumbling adobe structures that greeted us near the gate were a stark contrast to the hotel’s entrance, flanked on each side with grand totems and hung with a sign that reads “mah-waan, mah-waan” (which means “welcome” in Picuris.) The dry pond in the reservation’s recreation area paled in comparison to the hotel’s swimming pool, which is heated year-round.

We had hoped to stop at the tribe’s gift shop, but found it locked and the shelves bare. (The store was closed for renovations, I found out later.) So, with nothing left to do, we turned around, leaving the worn-out basketball nets and dilapidated cars in a cloud of dust behind us.

It’s too bad that the economic benefits from the hotel have not been more immediate for the Picuris. Later, Hotel Santa Fe’s General Manager Paul Margetson told me that the hotel is profitable but the tribe hasn’t yet received any money because the profits have been used to pay off the loan. The loan should be paid off by 2002, he said.

When I was checking out, I received a piece of paper with my bill asking that guests contribute to a health and education fund for the tribe--$1 for each night’s stay. It seems a small price to pay indeed. I only hope that as the years progress, the hotel that is such a special place for me can become a special place for the Picuris people as well.

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SoCal Confidential runs Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Booth Moore can be reached at booth.moore@latimes.com.