.MTU2NQ.MTM3NDA0

-2- with the music there goes something of Andalusian Spain, mixed with the sound of crackling castanets and a moorish wail, united with the sound of cannon and the prayers of the mothers who lost their sons in the war! Ay que Caile, gitana! Que Caile! Ah, what a dance, gipsy woman - what a dance!" She had Mexico enslaved, this Carmen Amaya, who like another Egypitan of Centuries past, had something unknown to more women. We went to see her after the show and talked a while with her and her people. She asked me "Ute es flamenco? and I told her what she needed to know, asking how long she would be in Mexico City. "Pue-s voy e'tar aqui nueve dia, cono .... I'll be here nine days, cousin." And years turned back to a time when another gipsy woman danced and talked and sang as does Carmen Amaya - my mother who came from Sevilla, also, and for worse luck, married a unclear-gorgio?. Last night a radio program - musica flamenca .... Adios, Granada. Dios mio, was there ever a song made like that, unclear by one of the Romani gente? At the International Club in Mexico, my rumi and I danced, and I gave a lecture on the wandering people. Mexico has many gipsies .... there is one saloon where the proprietor, the unclear and most of the clients are of the raza Cale.