Wednesday, November 06, 2002
Frontera
I want to say "borderline" or "border crossing" - some remnant of the state story. At the same time, "frontera" can be a "pry" word, to pry open, or reopen itself, to recuperate some of the friction behind the idea of "border." Gloria Anzaldua's poem, "To live on the Borderland means you" -
are neither hispana indea negra española
ni gabacha eres mestiza, mulata, half-breed
caught in the crossfire between camps
while carrying all five races on your back
not knowing which sides to turn to, run from
I notice, in my dictionary definition, that “fronterizo” and “frontero” are adjectives that include the notion of “opposite” and “facing.” For me, as a Canadian, those connotations are stronger than our usual, until recently, softer and sometimes invisible southern border. “They” and “Us” are pretty much alike and the differences seem minor and transparent.
I’ve always thought of Mexico’s northern border with the US as much more of an edge of defference and contention – i.e. defended and patrolled (from what?). And, whereas Canadians imagine only that single southern border, I wonder how Mexicans juggle their three borders as either sites of opposition or complicity. Certainly the imagination of the “new gringo” has recently converted some of the opposition and imbalance along the northern border to something more digestible, culturally and economically, as Canada has always.
I’m interested in what further senses others in our “exchange” might offer regarding this term “frontera.”
posted by Fred 5:58 PM
