Mi aguela chepa
Posted by mokita on October 5, 2009, 12:57 am
My grandmother was a door to something magical and prohibited, marked with pain and repression, her heritage was something to be a shame of, in order to coexist with the European influences and impositions. |
Her religion and costumes change or replaced by the ones of The European invaders.
And some how she manage to keep at least the most fundamental of her culture, like her beliefs and food, she was a refugee in her own territory but also a proud warrior, veteran of thousand battles.
Her tender and strong hands where warm and soft showing the wear of years of making tortillas en el metate, always doing something never stop till the day she die, her face with no expressions and beautiful, at the same time intimidating.
And when I first hear to Mercedes Sosa, I felt like she was mi abuela's voice.
Grasias a la vida que me a dado tanto, me dio dos luceros, con ellos distingo lo negro de el blanco.
Que descansen en paz todos mis muertos.
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