Match
I had not knocked on the door twice when there she was, opening it widely and greeting me with a sweet and equally wide smile. Ana stands on her toes and reaches up to give me a warm hug. She listens as her mother and I confirm directions to the recreation center where her older brother will be fighting his first boxing match. Ana and her mother kiss and say goodbye, agreeing to meet at the event.
Once on our way, Ana coyly asks if she can play a song she brought from home, a Latin hip hop recording featuring some sassy and sexy lyrics. I hear her singing softly, with her distinct Guatemalan accent.
As I drive, I see her from the corner of my right eye. There, buckled up on the front passenger seat is a twelve-year-old whose feet barely reach the floor, who enjoys playing ‘I spy’ and who tells me that she will cover her eyes during the match because she doesn’t want to see her brother get hurt.
We arrive at the rec center an hour early. Ana accepts graciously when I offer to get lunch, and she chooses nachos with cheese, but without jalapenos. She shares her lunch with me, and makes sure there is nothing left, as she licks the melted cheese from the plate and from her fingertips.
At one point, we notice some teenage girls in cheerleader uniforms giggling excitedly. Ana asks if we could go watch them practice, and we do. She gazes at the girls and their acrobatics, star-struck.
We go to use the restroom, and as I emerge from my stall I see her by the sinks, trying to replicate the cheerleaders’ moves. Her below-the-knees-length red velvet dress, white socks and black Mary Jane shoes are very different from the mini skirt, tight top and sneakers outfits the cheerleaders are wearing.
The boxing event is about to begin, and Ana’s family has not arrived. She looks at the clock repeatedly and tells me that she fears they may have gotten lost. Her large, almond-shaped brown eyes seem worried. She asks me to call her mother to check on where they are. She paces and scans the growing crowd of spectators, searching for familiar faces, until she grins broadly and waves to get her family’s attention.
Her parents, uncle, and four siblings joined us at the bleachers, where Ana had reserved space for all on the second row from the boxing ring.
There are several matches before Ana’s brother’s bout. She mentions that her father has asked her if she wants to learn to box herself, but she prefers gymnastics. Her petite, limber frame has caught the attention of the gymnastics trainers during PE at school, she says.
When her baby sister starts crying, Ana volunteers to soothe her. She ties her thick, long black hair in a ponytail, and holds her sister on her lap, first playfully bouncing her, then gently rocking her as she sings lullabies in Spanish. Her tune seems drowned in the sea of boxing fans’ cheers, but the baby falls asleep, nevertheless.
When the time for her brother’s match comes, Ana softly says a prayer. She does not cover her eyes, but keeps them on her brother’s fast-moving figure for the duration of the three rounds. Her voice is raised to cheer him, yelling his name, encouraging him in Spanish and in English. When her brother is declared the winner, Ana sighs, smiles, stands up, and claps.
