I still remember my first time visiting Santa Isabel Village in El Salvador, this is the place where my mother and family grew up. For a long time, ever since I was a little girl, my mom would tell me and my siblings about the big house she lived in with my aunts. She used to make bread in a bakery, and my aunts' grandmother sold homemade foods in the mornings. They all walked to the central market to work. The most interesting thing about it was how close they lived to a cemetery. My mother would tell us that they always had to pass by it everyday, and when I met my uncles here in the U.S, they would tell us scary stories about the place. The legends of "The Traka Traka", or "The Cepitillo" and "The Llorona", which coincidentally happen to hang out by there. But on this day, on my fist visit to this village, I saw this lady sewing a dress-very peacefully, after serving breakfast to her family who ate black beans, eggs and plantains with cream, and of course, black coffee heated in a pot. Everyone ate without a rush. She sat on her chair to sow while the sun illuminated the next step in her seam.
4/2011- MLV
