El Pajarito (the little bird)
From LITTLE BIRDS ~ vignettes on border crossings and emancipation
Written by María Elena Gaitán
On the walk to Laguna Park, my mother and I peek into the dance studio on Whittier Boulevard. The door is wide open. There’s music and the sound of tapping. So we must look in as we walk by.
Inside, a tall red-headed gringa tap dances in shiny black shoes, wearing a glittery red blouse that ties in front and shows her panza. She’s wearing short shorts and exhibits her long bare gringa legs while her students try to follow along.
The tappity tap-tap shoes with cleats mark the time and play tricks on the ear. Her feet move so fast I can’t seem to follow with my eyes. I’m fascinated and so is my mother. But that’s not what she says out loud. Instead:
“Mira esa gringa encuerada bailando con las piernas de fuera.”
But all I can think of is the sound of the clackity-clack taps made by her shiny cleated black shoes and her strong naked piernas drumming patterns onto the green linoleum floor, defying the rules and order of my mother’s Victorian Mexican upbringing.
From Los tiempos de Don Porfirio* Mexican women must be demure, quiet, abnegadas and their flesh covered up. But gringas don’t know or care about Don Porfirio. They do what they like. They have…
