Butterfly Day

I have been working on a big translation project recently ~~ it can be slow, tedious work, but mostly I enjoy thinking and writing in Spanish ~ especially today when I did some of it on the roof of my building.  My neighbor loaned me her comfortable lawn chair in exchange for a huge slice of chocolate cake ~ which is the best way to barter things, don't you think?  So, I sat up there, watching the sail boats and kayaks and paddle boats on Lake Merritt, and the "Star Wars" cargo cranes at the Port of Oakland in the fuzzy distance ~~ I could even see all the way to San Francisco, to the Twin Peaks Tower.  I put on some sun block but still, in the couple of hours I was up there, I got about 2 shades darker ~ and it reminded me of being a little brown kid in Houston, wanting to run around outside in the searing heat, but being told to stay inside so I wouldn't get "so negra."  Oy, that is a whole other story for another blog posting for another day ~~ the not-so-subtle racism among lighter-skinned Latinos against darker-skinned or mixed-race Latinos.  For now, I think of all this because this amazing song, Arenita Azul, by Lila Downs is playing from her brilliant second CD, Tree of Life.  The words in the song allude to the prejudices that face the AfroMestizo community on the coast of Oaxaca, Mexico.  In the song, Lila is faced with questions that would reduce her to placing herself in one ethnic group ~~ so she answers that she would just rather be a butterfly.  The lyrics, in Spanish and English, are down below.

One of the nicknames that my loved ones call me is mari-posa ~ butterfly.  I think Drew started this several years ago when I went through that "dark phase," including law school with all the requisite existential angst and intense self-reflection, ~ and I emerged more of a kick-ass mujer ~ so Drew one day said it was like I had been in a cocoon all those years and had finally broken through as the mariposa I was meant to be ~ and since the short version of my name is "Mari," well, the nickname stuck ~ when people call me by that name, well, it means more than they know.  So this song by Lila, so brief but intense ~ not even three minutes long ~ just resonates very strongly tonight ~ it's quite different from the other songs on this CD because it has a very strong Afro-Cubano flavor, and that sexy piano that comes in at the final 45-seconds or so will make your cadera move, and your heart pound, like you didn't think it could:

Arenita Azul	Blue Sand
Arenita azul de 'onde salió? anoche cayó l'agua la destapó Ere cubana? no soy cubana ere jarocha? no soy jarocha qué quiere ser mi maí? soy mariposa Desde que te fuiste no he visto flores ni lo pajaro cantan ni l'agua corre	Blue sand where did you come from? last night the rain fell and it released you Are you a Cuban woman? no, I'm not a Cuban woman are you a Jarocha woman? no, I'm not a Jarocha woman What would you like to be? I'm a butterfly Since you left I haven't seen any flowers Nor do the birds sing Or the river flow

Lila Downs is on tour and will be in San Francisco on September 24 and San Luis Obispo on September 25 ~ then on to Tucson, San Antonio, Chicago, and several other U.S. cities before heading to Europe.  If you have the chance to see her, DO IT.

Comments

[richard draut]

blue sand is a strong and beautiful image. twice i heard lila perform this and, not spanish speaking myself, came away with variations of the lyrics since she would interpret the song before playing it. for instance, i imagined migrants, crossing borders looking for work, and the inherent hardship. as a butterfly, we could and would move freely. and not be identified as a color.

[kinjal]

though i am not familiar with the latino issue , the concept light-dark skin is hardly unfamiliar to an indian, which i am. reading this article convinced me of the similarity between the two. india was a colony of the british empire and so racism was supposedly revolted against. yet now it seems that its a perpetual post-colonial hangover. every indian parent wants their offsprings to be lighter skinned. the fairness creams sell like crazy. dark skin is looked down upon everywhere.i fail to see why in a free world, should colour play such a role?
i dont think blaming the colonists is enough , i think its a more intrinsic character in people, maybe started by the colonists but reverently continued by us.

[Maribel]

Most Mexicans are like medium or dark skinned(Mostly Native and Black). If you see a white looking mexican, it's because they have more European blood.

[Guera]

yeh I know wut u mean by lighter skinned mexicans getting it rougher..I'm a light skinned Mexicana myself and other mexicans in my barrio are morenos..I hate it when people think I'am white, it really buggs me when they call me gringa. Pero after all it dont matter as long as I know what I'am is koo. que no??
pues alratoz
guera

[oso]

By the way, what's the translation project?

[oso]

Every year for the last three years Lila Downs has come by my university to play and each year I've been busy doing something else. This time I'm detirmined to see her down in Tijuana on the 17th.

My girlfriend (quien le llamo mi mariposata) is the only Morena of a very very light skinned family. When her little sister was born and was also a güerita, my girlfriend hated her because everyone would comment what beautiful light skin she had.

Do you like the Maná song Mariposa?

I love Lake Merritt - one of my favorite places in the Bay Area.

[DailyTexican]

The racism towards darker colored Latinos is very prevalent all over the place, but ironically enough, growing up, the lighter skinned Mexicans, had it a bit rougher, at least in my Barrio. I'm not sure if it's because we grew up in section-8 or what, but this was the case. My sister, a guera, very very light skinned, was called names like "guera, gringa, bolia," and she hated them. When people thought she was a gringita, she would get upset. I'm also reminded of another "guero," who lived next to me. He was my good friend, and we called him "La Chinche." His younger brother is very dark, and I guess we did call him "negro." I wonder if he minded, because his mom would say "ven, mi negrito" as terms of affection. My brother is also very dark, but I don't remember calling him anything. I do remember calling a kid in school - "mayate" or "indio."