Rosemary Martin

My Name's Maria, Not Mary: Memoirs of a Colombian Campesina Rosemary Martin

Young Berenita, as she is known, watches as the children
walk by giggling and laughing without a care in the world on
their way to school She helps her Papá Antonio and dreams of
the day she will make him proud of her, she vows that she will
make him as proud as her as she is of him She watches the
children and reflects on the fact that she doesn't remember her
mother and she can't afford to go to school She is barefoot
with her long blond, tangled curls all over her head Her father
shows her a picture of her mother that died when she was so
young, but she's not that interested in that, because she doesn't
know what it's like to have a mother She adores her Papá and
her brother Álvaro with all of her heart
She
and her brother feed the chickens and the other
animals of the finca in the countryside in Colombia They have
the full love and attention of their father Don Antonio The
neighbors respect this humble family and help them by giving
them work in their homes They are partially dependent on the
other families and some of the other families dependent on
them, to use their sugar mill and buy goods in their makeshift
store on the first floor of their home
Once
the day has ended, they sit together under the starry
dark night sky, away from the all city lights of Bogotá They
all talk and laugh together near the burro powered sugar mill,
called a trapiche, in Spanish Their hands are cut up from
picking sugar cane all day, but they greet their neighbors with
big smiles on their faces and today, they greet you too They
are inviting you into their humble home for a bowl of soup and
a cheese stuffed arepa, because you are always welcome in
their home
I
hope you enjoy your visit