Some worked in shops, some were nurses or teachers, many were divorced, and all seemed to want to escape McCarthyism. There was a whole community of single women of moderate means from California and New York living in the neighborhood. She felt happy, like she was where she was supposed to be. She took a little house with a view of the mountains, and the hour-long trip over them in the morning to class seemed a small price to pay. She could commute to the District for classes, which she’d signed up for at the University City. Lorde fell in love with the neighborhood of Cuernavaca where they lived, and it took little urging to get her to move down to that area. Tammy was twelve and loved having Lorde around. She was white, progressive, and smart, and was in her early forties. Freida was a friend of Rhea’s and she lived in Mexico City post-divorce. She looked up Freida Mathews and her young daughter Tammy. She had conversations in part-English, part-Spanish with locals, but longed for a friend with whom she could speak English. She went to the Alameda, a park, and read in the evening. Everyone was kind to her and she was amazed at how good she felt seeing all of the brown faces around her. She walked miles in the city, growing more and more comfortable and curious with each passing day. Lorde wrote that Mexico City was “a sea of strange sounds and smells and experiences that I swam into with daily delight” (154).
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