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4. Mexican Machismo and a Woman’s Worth
- Duke University Press
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chapter 4 MEXICAN MACHISMO AND A WOMAN’S WORTH ‘‘are we mexicans?’’ Cruz asked. ‘‘No, we’re Indians,’’ Ana said firmly. ‘‘We’re Cucapá.’’ It was at this point in the conversation that I started listening from the sleeping area late one night. Ana and Cruz, the mother and father in the house where I was staying, had just returned from Mexicali, where they had been visiting Cruz’s mother in the hospital. At first I thought Cruz was joking with his question about whether they were Mexicans,∞ or that he was really drunk or high and that was why he was not making sense. But as I listened to the conversation through the plywood wall separating us, I slowly began to understand what was happening . ‘‘This is your son,’’ Ana said, referring to Javier, who was asleep on the couch. ‘‘And you have two daughters and twelve brothers and sisters.’’ The conversation continued in this unusual manner, with Ana explaining to Cruz what should be obvious to him. It seemed that Cruz could not remember anything. Ana and Cruz talked late into the night, and eventually I drifted back to sleep. I was hesitant to leave the sleeping area the next morning. I could hear that Cruz’s sister had just arrived, and he was apologetically explaining that he did not recognize her. Her two-year-old son was pushing the door open to the room where I was sleeping, so I could not hide any longer. I came out of the room slowly, careful to focus on Cruz’s nephew because I wanted to delay meeting Cruz’s eyes. A gringa suddenly emerging from his own home could only confuse him more. I could immediately tell when I looked at him and said ‘‘Buenos días, Cruz,’’ as I always did, that he did not recognize me. Ana motioned me to the table and mechanically passed me a cup of hot water. I distracted myself by carefully stirring instant co√ee into the water, concentrating on the crystals dissolving into a dark swirl. Meanwhile , Ana explained what was going on: after leaving the hospital the night before, Cruz had broken down crying, and after he recovered his Mexican Machismo and a Woman’s Worth 119 composure he could not remember anything: his name, who Ana was, or where they were going. Nothing. Cruz interjected that he had found my contact card in his wallet and Ana had explained that I was staying with them. Several minutes later, Berenice, Cruz and Ana’s daughter, emerged from the sleeping room as well: another round of introductions. In chapter 2, I explored the way that a particular notion of indigeneity is often imposed on local people by the state, ngos, and international organizations . However, these categories are also authenticated, contested, and imposed at a much more local level in complex ways. In addition to negotiating the terms of authenticity imposed on them, locals also engage in contentious debate over what constitutes Cucapá identity. This chapter explores how these more ‘‘internal’’ struggles over Cucapá identity are established and contested, especially in connection to gender relations. In this chapter, I focus on a particular Cucapá view of gender that is often articulated in opposition to Mexican machismo. My analysis begins with an ethnographic account of Cruz’s illness that developed after his wife, Ana, left him for a local nonindigenous man, ‘‘a Mexican,’’ leaving a wake of gossip, ultimately about gender and family, in her path. I argue that the narratives that emerged around Cruz’s episode illustrate how gender roles are locally produced and contested. As the indigenous rights movement has gained more ground in Mexico, especially since the Zapatista uprising in 1994, a tension has emerged in the perceived incompatibility of indigenous autonomy and women’s rights among indigenous people. In many cases such rights for women were contrary to the traditional male-centered practices of indigenous communities . This tension often made demands for indigenous self-government and for recognition of indigenous women’s rights mutually exclusive. Cucapá women’s leadership is a particularly striking counterexample to the stereotype of the subjugated indigenous woman in Mexico. In contrast to other indigenous groups in Mexico, some of which have been accused of making claims for the political autonomy of a people whose culture doesn’t recognize ‘‘women’s rights’’ (Hernández Castillo 1998), the Cucap á’s claims to indigenous autonomy in the fishing conflict are primarily voiced by women and underwritten...