An afternoon in Tijuanita
I sat outside at a rickety card table with my friend Cristina and watched her deftly sort beads. Her elderly mother rested peacefully in the dappled shade nearby. She was usually dressed in the bright everyday garb of the Huichol women, with a long full skirt that was tied at the waist and a long sleeved blouse with two small front pockets. The women generally chose one bright color for the blouse and a contrasting color for the skirt. Then they decorated the outfit with other primary and secondary color rick rack and ribbon. The style identified them as Huichola and distinguished them from the women of other tribes in that part of Mexico. It was a convenient way to avoid the discomfort of beginning a conversation with someone who didn’t speak the same language.
Her Unique Identity
That day her outfit caught my eye. She had departed from the norm and had chosen fabric with an oriental floral design for the blouse. The skirt was a combination of a middle eastern paisley patterns and the unmistakable black and white checks of a north american stock car race track. She wore multiple beaded necklaces around her neck and also wore a couple beaded lanyards for her keys. As incongruous as it may have seemed, it was also appealing. She hadn’t departed from the traditional style; just made it uniquely her own.
Our world has become so small. We continually impact one another, no matter how distant we might seem. There are few places as remote as the Huichol villages high up in the Sierra Madre mountains. The only way to reach them are on foot or riding a burro. When the villagers migrate down to the foothills to work in the fields, they enter a culture of cyber cafes, stoves and cell phones. It’s quite a change!
The outfit of Cristina’s mother openly expressed the process of adapting to a new culture while not losing touch with her origins. She had sewn the story of her personal migrant experience and her own unique identity.
