Muñeco
Working my way to catching up! So for day 8 of #InktoberLatinxColectivo2020 challenge, the prompt is MUÑECA / DOLL #LatinxInk20
This is a true story. When I visited El Salvador at the age of seven in 1984, it was the first time that I was old enough to imprint memories of the people, places. things, feelings. It was the first time I felt “at home” in the place I belonged. It was the first time that I felt a sense of family. (I will expound more of this in the next illustration).
My grandmother, Mama Julia, one morning asked me into her room. She had surprise for me. She told me she had found a box with some things from the last time I had visited. And then she told me the story, about the VERY first time I had come to El Salvador, back in 1978 when I was just a year old. My grandmother had gotten sick, and my mother, though still undocumented, decided to leave the U.S. and came take care of Mama Julia. My mother felt I was to small to leave with my father, so she took me with her.
On my journey, I had taken with me a small plush doll. When we left El Salvador a few months later, my plush doll was unfortunately left behind. My mother says I cried for it all along the journey back to Mexico. Why Mexico? Because even though as a baby I was a U.S. citizen, my mother was still considered an “illegal alien,” so she had no choice but to cross the border with me in tow. (But that’s a story for another day).
Back in 1984, when I showed my mother the plush doll, she exclaimed, “¡Iiijj, ahí está la babosada! Vos cómo jodías por tu mentado Catenene!” My doll had a name! And so, Catenene was my only company on my lonely flight back to the U.S. While I retained my privilege to fly back home, my mama was still undocumented, and so she again had no choice but to cross the border “illegally.” I cried into Catenene all the way back home.
Catenene has a permanent spot now, next to my bed.