Gringa

I have a confession to make. In my heart I am so enthusiastic to learn about Mexico--it's culture, it's food, it's people. But when I go somewhere like, say Grand Central Market I suddenly feel exposed. Like I'm a poser, or insincere, or just some silly little girl who feels entitled to a culture that is not her own. I become terrified of offense, or trying to say something in Spanish and messing up.

Essentially I am just a Gringa. But I have to get over that, in order to open myself up to the possibility of genuinely knowing this Mexican heritage. That also means being honest with myself as well. Making chocoflan, or salsa does not make me more Mexican.

I am enthusiastic, I am excited, I am in awe. I have to get over my own hang-ups and insecurities and just dive in! I have to allow myself to make mistakes and take the wrong turns. It's OKAY.

I will also continue to educate myself. The first step is to enroll in a Spanish class. I will continue to devour any and all literature I can get my hands on. I will continue to cook and eat, as food is nourishment not only for the body, but can also define a society.

I do this because I have a thirst. I do this because I want to share with my son. I do this to become more aware of myself. To be unafraid.

Octavio Paz says:

Between going and staying the day wavers,

in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay

where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,

all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,

rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats

the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall

into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,

watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,

I stay and go: I am a pause.

Between going and staying the day wavers, by Octavio Paz