Share The By Stephanie Elizondo Griest February 15, 2021
The year I turned thirty, I decided it was time to make my ancestors proud or at least stop disgracing them. So I quit my job in Brooklyn, shoved my stuff into storage, and moved to the colonial city of Querétaro to become more Mexican. My goal was to improve my
gringa Spanish, but on my way to class that first day, I got distracted by a joyous sound.
Across a courtyard and down a hall spun a color wheel: magenta and green, tangerine and turquoise, red and yellow, whirling from the skirts of a dozen women practicing Mexican