Laya

I am listening to Nina Simone's station at pandora. While im listening, i cant help but thinking on many colors of women voices in my life. Women that are strong because of the humility that they present in my head. There is no other word but that one. Humility.
I think of great grandmother, abuelita Yala, and the stories i grew up listening, not from her, but from others about her. My greatgrandmother was a woman that all the characteristics of the indigenous women of Nayarit, Coras. She grew up at the time where looking more as indigenous was a sin. You were curse for life if your skin was dark. My greatgrandmother endure a lot of pain at her time. Pain that has not ended because times have not changed. At least not for us.

My great grandfather, on the other side, was light skin and had blue eyes. Zarco was his name. And i used to have a feeling of safety every time he huged me as a baby. I didnt have that feeling of safety from men as a child. But I do remember him. My greatgrandfather Zarco never stop drinking. And never stoped hitting my great grandmother. He used to come home drunk and attempting to hitting my greatgrandmother even with the 'machete' that he used to work with. I remember hearing from grandfather, Chuy, "thats her luck, thats what she gets for marrying a white man". The whole town and part of the family, assumed that she needed to endure that pain and way of life because of her position as an indigenous looking woman. But she never completely believe, or viewed herself as a victim.

She divorced him. and she leaved alone for many years until she died.

This may not sound as a happy story. But it is for me based on the context. I see my greatgrandomother Laya, as a pioneer woman that faced many obstacles and was treated badly for many years but that didnt conform with her 'luck'. She maybe ended up alone the rest of her years, but she chosed that life. It was her desicion, her power. She didnt hate my greatgrandfather. she just didnt want to be with him.

I remember her house. her smell. but mostly, i remember her long, long white hair. She used to be unique. extremelly thin and with a distict look of calmness that i will never forget.

I want many things from her. But as of now, I can only try by constructing with many stories, the idea of my perception of her, in my life.