soon as I set foot in this village, I felt that I had entered the
heart of a Mexican truth: women feed this earth and their life is
made of clay. Clay ovens for clay pans and pots, everything is touched
and transformed by hands which are also the color of clay. As they
told me when I asked whether they owned some land: "The only
land we have is the one beneath our fingernails." All their
life they are surrounded by clay and earth, as can be seen here
in Nicolasa's kitchen.