Breathe
By Leticia Bonifaz
Who who has been touched by the pen of Rosario Castellanos has remained the same? Who after reading lines of prose poetry or essays remains the same? Something moves and moves. Feelings are at the surface of the skin or at the river's surface with the images of her beloved Chiapas and the washerwomen of the Grijalva. You get angry, you laugh, you yearn, you receive an injection of encouragement, you want to change everything, you look for origins and essences, you are transported to real or dreamed spaces, you arm yourself with courage and love. There is the touch of a fencer who uses the word to touch you, that's her thing. With the word she touches the world and those of us who inhabit it.
Rosario passed away half a century ago. She did not live to be half a century old. What would have happened if she had lived a very long life like her very close friend Dolores Castro, who almost reached a hundred? We will not know, but 49 years were enough to leave a work that keeps her alive and allows her to continue the dialogue with us.
Since I was a child, in my house we talked about "la Chayito". That's how they called our Rosario in Comitán. Many people had known her. Some of her teachers were still walking the streets of our town when she passed away. She was there, present in tales, stories, anecdotes and remembrances. I learned about the existence of the School of Philosophy and Letters from my mother. I was in elementary school and curiosity settled in me. How do you study literature?
The day the news of her death was announced, the disbelief, shock and pain of the people who had treated her was contagious. A recital was soon put together with some of her poems. My younger sister, who was then 8 years old, in a sailor dress emulated the Rosario girl and in the auditorium of the Cultural Center that today bears her name recited: "Over and over again, like the hammer to the nail, until it sinks into my flesh and pierces it, the world has kissed me..."
We, the youngsters of Junior High and High School, -her school-, memorized her poems and approached her with deep admiration. We saw how, with words, a landscape could be described: "Señora de los vientos, garza de la llanura, cuando te meces, canta tu cintura..." (Lady of the winds, heron of the plains, when you rock, your waist sings...). That poem to a palm tree evoked the lower part of Chiapas, where to this day we see many ladies rocking together among the cane fields.
Her poetry touched me first, then her prose with Balún Canán, the novel that bears the ancient Mayan name of our land; but it was not until university that I met the feminist who touched me forever. I read and reread it. I became fully aware of the discrimination against women and the indigenous population with her letters. It was with her that I understood the first thing to understand. I moved on to the theoretical plane and the depths of her Eternal Feminine. Rosario, with her powerful and profound deductions, gave us tools to reconstruct the world after understanding the systemic inequality. The great woman ahead of her time was no longer able to attend the World Conference on Women in 1975; but many of her concerns were discussed there, some of her approaches were taken up again and we moved forward until we reached the conquests of our days.
Rosario has an unimaginable vitality after half a century of having left this land. She continues to touch minds, hearts and souls, especially the young ones. She is a sensitive woman, intelligent like few others, with a great sense of humor and love. Unrepeatable, giant, generous. She, very her, very ours: the great Rosario, our Rosario.
The opinions expressed are the responsibility of the authors and are absolutely independent of the position and editorial line of the company. Opinion 51.
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