Luzesica (eBook)

Chapter III -
Bridges

As time went on, and Luzesica grew in years, so too did the criticism of her looks by Ramona, ‘the Pearl.’ “Your skin is darker than mine” or, “Your eyes are too close together and your mouth is too little.” Other times it was, “Why did you have to come so small?” The ill comments went on and on like rain on a roof. Although a roof can shield the rain, in a constant deluge, leaks are sometimes the inevitable result. One day, instead of just standing there and taking the pelting, Luz blurted out, “You made me! If I am ugly, it’s your fault!” then stormed out of the house in a fierce but tearless rage.

Life can have a way of bringing something good out of something bad. A balance can be produced to compensate an imbalance. Out of this particular difficult situation, three positive things occurred. The first of them, was that little Luzesica became a pretty tough cookie. There was nothing thin-skinned about her. It was a useful asset that would serve her for years to come. She gave off an air of “Yes... I’m short, but so is my fuse..., and if I were you..., I would NOT light it!”

The second beneficial thing was that she came to be even more endeared to her brothers, especially the two oldest, Pastòr and Chano. The fun loving and free spirited Chano would be quick to use any chance available to make her laugh with his antics, creating ridiculous characters and faces at a moment’s notice. She learned how to genuinely laugh from Chano. Countless times, and often for not much of a reason, the two just roared in stomach wrenching episodes of pure, healthy, deep-seated laughter.

Her brother Pastòr, the oldest, was much more serious minded. Sensitive and passionate, he demonstrated a natural talent and love for the guitar. Early in his life he learned everything he could from others in El Caldero. There, the Gypsy community was rich in talents. He excelled quickly as a student and became very popular because of it. Additionally, compassion was a deep running current that ran through his life. For his sister, he voiced it in his music, playing her favorite classical or flamenco pieces. If with Chano, she learned the importance of laughter, with Pastòr she learned another kind of emotional healing. The unspoken lessons in the sweet notes he played, taught her that art is something powerful, and it can be absorbed through the very pores of your skin.

Between the influences of these two brothers, Luz learned a balance. Take art and life seriously. But when things get heavy, don’t forget to have a sense of humor.

As much of a blessing these first two things were to the budding life of Luzesica, the third one was not only equal in significance, it was more so. Flamenco dancers often take on other names to stage their art. “La Juana” was Rocio’s, and it carried a strong and long standing reputation, even as she grew in years. So, when Luz suddenly said to her one day, “Teach me to dance Nana,” it caused a gigantic bell to chime in her grandmother’s heart. In that moment, at long last, she knew that she would be able to fully realize her vow given on the day of her birth. It was clear to her too, that it would happen as natural as rain nourishing a plant. The two smiling faces were nodding in unison, as if in a timeless mirror where young and old, or even their blood relations mattered little. Only their agreement was relevant. An even deeper inexplicable bond was created between them...that of teacher and apprentice.

Where Gypsies congregate, you will find music and dance. Now, to merely mention Gypsies, music, and dance in the same sentence and let it go at that, is a bit like saying, “Gee, that Mt. Everest sure is a nice looking mountain.” In certain cultures on our shared globe, the connection to music and dance is an ancient one. Gypsies, are both ancient in origin and highly talented. This duality finds open channels in their cultural core. Just talking about it or trying to describe it, is to limit it. Truly it is ineffable. It must be experienced. I’m not speaking of what you might witness as a performance in a tavern, or cabaret. If you ever have the opportunity to see and hear Gypsies in a private, non public arena, by all means go and discover why Everest is known as the “rooftop of the world.”

The training practices that ensued between these two did not seem like training. The work was not like work at all. Oh it was rigorous. It produced a lot of sweat, labored breathing and aching muscles. Yet at the end of each session, Rocio could not tell which one of them grew more from it. Certainly there was a noticeable change in both. Each of them was giving an all out effort, more than they ever had, more than what they thought they could do.

The type of change that occurs when art is produced in its pure form, what I would define as fine art, goes beyond the immediate. It penetrates the realms of limitation and steps into the universal and eternal. It has the capacity to create ongoing change. It continues to reveal truth that prevails.

True art is a living thing. It breathes.

Beside the benefits from the instruction of dance, was also that of building the base of a healthy self image for Luzesica, one that had resilience to hardships in whatever form they might take. Many times Rocio felt it invaluable to just sit and talk. The sharing of personal stories and the intimacy of connecting on an emotional level was to achieve a lot. Sometimes those tales were pretty humorous. During one of their talks, Rocio asked Luz to share something embarrassing. So she did.

Luz was only around 4 or 5 years old at the time it occurred. It wasn’t until this shared talk session that she retrieved the experience from her memory. It was the first time she shared the experience with any other soul.

“Well, as you know there are mostly boys in my house and my mother and I are seldom on good terms so, I can’t really ask her things you know? Chano tells me stuff though. He’s like my friend really. Anyway, one day he casually said that the boys would go into the woods and have contests to see who can pee the farthest. I was still a young kid and I was having a hard time picturing it in my mind. So one time I just followed them without them knowing it, so I could watch. Well, I soon discovered they had shooters! I thought to myself, no wonder! I did not have a shooter like they did and boy I was darned mad about it! There they were, shooting their pee really far and laughing. They had a contest of shooting out their white sticky pee too and laughing some more.” Rocio’s eyes rolled as she smiled thinking, I’m going to file this under ‘Boys will be boys’ and let it go at that.”

“By this time I am fuming and I stormed off to talk to my father about it. He was in his office at home and I pounded my fist on his door. I didn’t even bother for him to answer the knock. I just barged in and demanded, ‘Father, I need to talk to you man to man. I am very small but my anger is very big!’ I said it in a most serious way. If a voice could smile then his did, as he answered calmly, ‘Tell me how I can help my little flower’. Determined not to give up my rage, I just blurted out, ‘I want my thing to pee!’ He was real surprised and confused and asked me to explain. ‘Yes’ I said, ‘the boys all have things to pee and I didn’t get one so I want mine! I know that I’m the youngest but I really want to know why I didn’t get one. I’m the only one that has to sit down!’ And I mean I said it like it was suddenly the ultimate insult to sit down to pee. My fists were tightened and I stomped my foot insisting he do something about this shameful outrage.” Now, Rocio wants to roll on the floor in stitches but restrains herself to a mere chuckle so that Luz will finish the story.

“Somehow my father contained himself and with a straight face said to me that the next time he travels to purchase things, he will buy one for me. ‘Yes my little plum don’t worry yourself about this anymore.’

“Well it sounded reasonable to me and trusting him, I was satisfied that my demands would be met. That worked for a while but every time I knew he was out, I began again stamping my foot on the floor, and would again demand my thing to pee. My poor father was running out of excuses such as, ‘They were all out’ and ‘They didn’t have your size’ or ‘I had to special order one for you’. My gosh, what I put that poor man through. Finally, Chano explained it to me.”

Even in her early youth, Luz displayed a feisty nature. “Well there is simply no way that I can top that story”, said Rocio and they had a good roar over it.

On another occasion Luz inquired as to the circumstances of how her marriage to Viktòr came about. She always admired the closeness that they seemed to share. Like her own parents too, that union was arranged. It was a matter of contract made by others. So she asked, “How did it come to be that such good fits could be the result of them?”

“Well, this could be my embarrassing story to you,” she responds. Then without hesitation, Rocio recalled the event of her marriage as though it was quite recent instead of the decades past that it actually was. “We are the bloodline of kings, and that being so we do not have the choice of a wedding partner. One thinks little of this until it comes the time that it is thrown in your face like a bucket of cold water while you are still sleeping. When my parents told me my ceremony was to be in three months, I was just as angry as you were with your father. Then, I sank...