yes, Xica is back in full force. the other day she was acting up - bored and ranting, stalking the rooms of the apartment like a predatory cat, freaking out the nana. she has this thing where she twists her mouth up into an authoritative little beak, and she already knows how to fold her arms disapprovingly. an early education in symbolic violence, indeed! this is what my friend M. was calling "the mask of command" - the imperial dance that those in power mustered before the natives, which orwell talks about in his writings on burma.
i feel bad for the kid, because she has nothing to do all day and is just sort of lonely and imperious. she spends all day pining for her mother, plaintively wailing "donde está mi mamá" over and over like that storybook bird. every time the door opens or closes, she runs to it and beats on the wooden panes in fits of postpartum anguish. i'm not kidding. i definitely wish that i could spend all day entertaining her, as she's a fascinating child, but i need to write my dissertation, i really do. in fact, i shouldn't even be blogging! okay, but i must. good for the arteries, the ventricles, the breathing.
so anyway, at some point yesterday, Xica decided to like me. she even hugged my knees with intense child-force. it was sudden and unexpected; i was used to her railing at me with swirls of paranoid xenophobia in her eyes, and here she was, smiling up into my lap in this very charming and impish way. and then today she drew on my arm with some paint. so i think we've had our armistice day, and i can only imagine the happy free trade agreements to come.
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