Malinche Read Free Page B

her, Malinalli’s childhood would have been devoid of any joy. Thanks to her grandmother, now she could count on being resourceful enough to deal with the dramatic changes that she was facing and yet … still she was afraid.
    To keep fear at bay she looked up at the sky for the Morning Star, for her dear Quetzalcóatl, always present. Her great protector. From the first time they had given her away as a very young girl, Malinalli had learned to conquer the fear of the unknown by relying on the familiar, on the brilliant star that would appear at her window and that she would watch as it slowly danced from one side of the sky to the other, depending on the season. Sometimes it appeared above the tree in the courtyard. Sometimes she saw it shining above the mountains, sometimes beside them, but always flickering, joyous, alive. The star was the only thing that had never abandoned her. It had been present at her birth and she was sure it would be present at her death, there, from its spot in the firmament.
    Malinalli associated the idea of eternity with the Morning Star. She had heard the grown-ups say that the spirit of human beings, of all living things and of the gods, lives forever, not dying, but changing form. This idea filled her with hope, for it meant that in the infinite cosmos that surrounded her, her father and grandmother were as present as any star, and that their return was possible. Just as it was for Lord Quetzalcóatl. The sole difference was that the return of her father and grandmother would benefit only her, while the return of Quetzalcóatl, on the other hand, would alter completely the course of all the cities that the Mexicas had conquered.
    Malinalli was completely opposed to the way in which they governed, could not agree with a system that determined what a woman was worth, what the gods wanted, and the amount of blood that they demanded for their survival. She was convinced that a political, social, and spiritual change was urgently needed. She knew that the most glorious era of her ancestors had occurred during the time of Lord Quetzalcóatl, and because of this she longed for his return.
    Countless times she had thought about how if Lord Quetzalcóatl had never left, her people would not have been left at the mercy of the Mexicas. Her father would not have died and she never would have been given away. Human sacrifices would not exist. The idea that human sacrifices were necessary seemed perverse, unjust, and useless. So much did Malinalli long for the return of Lord Quetzalcóatl—the greatest opponent of human sacrifices—that she was willing to believe that her tutelary god had chosen the bodies of the newly arrived men in her region to give shape to his spirit, to house himself within them. Malinalli was convinced that the bodies of men and women were vehicles for the gods. That was one of the great lessons her grandmother had transmitted to her as, through games, she taught her how to work with clay.
    The first thing Malinalli learned how to make was a drinking vessel. She was only four years old, but with great wisdom she asked her grandmother, “Who thought of having jars for water?”
    â€œWater herself thought it up.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œSo that she could rest upon its surface and tell us about the secrets of the universe. She communicates with us through each puddle, each lake, each river. She has many ways of dressing up and appearing before us, each time in a new fashion. The mercy of the god who resides in the water invented the vessels from which, as the water quenches our thirst, it speaks to us. All the vessels filled with water remind us that god is water and is eternal.”
    â€œOh,” the girl replied, surprised. “Then water is god?”
    â€œYes, and so is the fire and the wind and the earth. The earth is our mother, who feeds us, who reminds us where we came from whenever we rest upon her. In our dreams she tells us