Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Conqueror or Conquer Her?

They were naked on the street in Mexico City.  Three years ago I saw them. Dozens of Men and Women of all ages.  I gawked at their saggy brown  bottoms, their saggier brown breasts and their saggiest brown family jewels.

They held signs of protest for the world to see.  The indigenous protested the corruption and crimes of the Mexican government against them.  They felt they had been stripped of their rights and lands.

Some of them wore tennis shoes, which I thought was weird.  But I suppose if you contemplate deeply makes perfect sense.  I mean, who wants to stand naked on the streets of Mexico City with her feet exposed to the elements?

The history of Mexico is one of my favorite subjects to study.  I'm captivated by Ancient Legends of a feathered serpant God, wars, bloodshed, human sacrifice and the conquest by the Spanish.





















Today I sat like a good little soccer mom at practice and tried to read.

Malinche is the story of The conqueror Hernan Cortes and the beautiful Indian woman, Milinalli.  She is considered the greatest traitor Mexico has ever seen.  La Malinche.

So, I'm sitting on the sidelines and I get to the part where Cortes Conquers Milinalli.  He takes her on the river bank in the rain against her will...

It got pretty steamy.  Oooo la la...

I should definitely not be reading this, I thought eagerly turning the page.  I mean, it's totally inappropriate...

I couldn't wait to continue...

"Mom!" shouted one of my children.  "Blah blah blah blah..." she said.





















I couldn't focus and frankly didn't care to hear what she wanted.  I tried to return to my book but everytime I did I was interupted by my husband or a child.

Do they not understand I am a descendant of a wild, blood thirsty people?  I thought. 

I looked around at all the parents chilling on the grass and in those comfy fold up chairs you buy at Wal Mart.  The people seemed calm.  Collected.  Hydrated.

I suddenly felt confined by it all.



My ancestors threw virgins to a fiery death, I thought.  They danced in the moonlight and slaughtered their enemies.  They built enormous pyramids and worshiped the God of rain and wind. They defecated in the wilderness.

I felt bummed and pale in comparison.

When people upset me I don't sharpen my spear and ram it through their skulls.  I write a blog... and practice deep breathing excercises... 

"Paint my face like an Indian," I said to Serena. I tossed her my make up bag. 





























My husband looked completely embarrassed.  He shook his head and looked around to see who might be watching this spectacle.

"You're insane," he said.

Bella followed his lead and wrote Weirdo on my forehead. 

Right there I knew I had conquered something.  I can't say what exactly, but it has something to do with expectations and social norms.





















I'M A WILD INDIAN, DAMMIT!

Daily I conquer daunting piles of laundry, a demanding family and the urge to get the Hell out of Dodge when things get sticky.  I conquer rush hour traffic, second grade homework and hard water stains.

We all conquer something daily, don't we?  We do things we don't want to do for the sake of those we love.  I'm gonna go ahead and say it would be easier to toss a virgin in a pit.

Living in our modern world can be extremely dangerous and exciting.


















Tonight I conquered a Carl's Junior Guacamole Six Dollar Burger and fries.  I'd say that's livin on the edge.  I may have actually sacrificed myself with that move.





















I may wake up dead tomorrow.