Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

I open my eyes to gray twilight. Josefina cries “Buenas Dias” right in my face as soon as I wake up. She’s already up and buttoning her skirt over her blouse. Morning? It’s the middle of the night. I push myself up and see a single small window glowing rosy with the sunrise. They get up early here.

Clara says that we have a busy day ahead of us. We need to hurry and get the chores done so we can get over to the village. Francisca rapturously says she cannot wait for all of the dancing tonight. She whirls around the room. Clara frowns. There’s a lot to do first.

Josefina gives me a sideways smile. She says Tía Dolores fixed the tear in my skirt last night, so we need to dress quickly. Josefina still needs to fetch water from the stream. I pull on the clean, mended skirt and braid my hair. Josefina and her sisters all put on the same clothes they wore yesterday, too. I’m guessing that when you don’t have a washer and dryer in the basement, laundry is much harder.

When Josefina returns with the water jug, there are more prayers at the altar, and then bread and fresh goat cheese for breakfast. We wave to Señor Montoya as he mounts his horse and sets off for Santa Fe, and then Clara, Ana, Tía Dolores, Josefina, and I all start off for the village, carrying squash, chiles, and dead chickens to be turned into stew. Francisca stays behind to take care of Ana’s little boys and to help Teresita, Carmen, and the other servants prepare food for tonight.

We all walk briskly along the dusty road leading from the rancho. The crispy air is scented with wood smoke. Josefina and I must trot to keep up with the others. Josefina says she is excited to visit with everyone. She hasn’t seen Señora Sanchez for a few weeks. She and a few other women from the village all grew up with Mamá and Josefina has known them since she was a baby.

A powerful ache throbs in my middle. I would like to feel at home out here, too. I want to feel like it is a part of my skin and my blood, the way Josefina does. We walk by plowed fields crowded with cornstalks and pumpkin vines growing between the green rows. A bubbling stream runs close to the path and I can see little channels have been carved out leading from the stream to each field. Josefina calls them acequias—irrigation ditches. It’s like using a garden hose at home. Except without the hose. And the faucet. And the city water system. But other than that, it’s just like using a hose.

Women kneel at the edge of the stream. They look up and call out greetings when we pass. Tía Dolores exchanges a few words with them and I watch a girl about my age scrubbing a shirt in the river. She uses a shredded-up plant as soap. Clean shirts and skirts and pants are spread on bushes to dry.

About twenty minutes later, Tía Dolores calls out that we can see the village. I expect to see a bustling little town with shops and people going in and out. But all I see are a few adobe houses arranged around a square plaza. We walk right into the square of houses and I realize this is the village. The houses and gardens are surrounded by thick fences and corrals for goats and horses. And that’s it. There’s not a shop in sight. The bustling crowds consist of a few women talking as they grind corn outside using a mano and metate, and boys playing some kind of game with long sticks.

I try to match Josefina’s enthusiasm. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, and it is cute. But just not very… busy. I’m starting to realize there are a lot fewer people in Josefina’s world. A girl, named Ofelia, comes up and tells the Montoyas to have a good day. Clara points out Señora Sanchez’s house next to the church. Lively chatter, delicious smells, and the sounds of knives chopping come from the open doorway.

The church is made of adobe, just like the houses, but it’s bigger and taller, and a bell is hung high above the door. It looks like the really old churches that Dad has shown me in Santa Fe, but it’s newer. I picture my old self in my jeans standing in one of those old churches along with other sightseers. I really have traveled through time.

Tía Dolores says that Señora Sanchez is expecting us, but we also have herbs to deliver to Tía Magdalena. She asks if Josefina and I would rather take them to Tía Magdalena, or go straight to Señora Sanchez to start the party preparation. Josefina turns to me. I hesitate. The party preparation sounds fun, but I want to meet Josefina’s special Aunt, too. this might be my only chance.