GOLONDRINAS
Reflections of resiliencia in the Rio Grande Valle Story by Leeanna T. Torres, photos by Alexis Bonogofsky They use more mud than sticks. They use the earth — la tierra — to make their nesting place. And I watch their copper underbellies, flashing wildly as they fly in and out, back and forth, busy and intent on constructing their nest in the notch of my front porch, their urgent comings and goings becoming part of my morning ceremony, a pair of golondrinas preparing for spring.
* Here in Nuevo México, there is a certain devotion to San Antonio, to San Isidro, and to La Madre Querida, water that is present in rain, acequia, and río. I think about the origins of our devotions, how they shape us, define us, ground us. I have seen Papa weep over the dozen of his cattle that perished one summer when the Public Electric Company field-site worker accidentally closed the gate behind him, leaving Papa’s cattle trapped on the other side of the terreno, without access to the water in the stock tank. His cows died of thirst, and he drove up to his rancho to find their bloated carcasses in the sun. Conversely, there are songs, tunes, melodies, shades of daylight that remind me of Nina, my great-aunt — that woman so often singing or whistling with a contagious joy, even as she cleaned other women’s houses. Dusting their curio cabinets, washing their curtains and windows, ironing their husbands’ jeans and dress pants. All her life, Nina worked, and she worked hard, but always her joy was contagious. Wildly contagious. Even now, gone for so many years, I remember her singing along with Las Hermanas Huerta, the scratchy record playing in the background. Nina, stirring beans on the stove, singing con such corazón that I wanted to be her. La resiliencia de mi familia originates in land, water, family, and food. Originates in ceremony, ordinary, and everything in between. Land and water, tierra y agua. Famila. Rezos. Cielo and sky. But the undercurrent of our resiliencia also lies in that subtle unspoken of our traditional lives, the deep querencia of our daily living.
* The pair of golondrinas finish their nest in the crux above our front porch. Made of mud and string, it is a structure for survival. The golondrina couple will lay their eggs in this nest, then settle in until their young are born and grow to fly away. 18
