Mala Suerte Martes Trece | Jennifer Pritchard
I believe in luck, sometimes for myself and, often for others. This abstract idea has been supported by none other than the proprietor of my nail salon. She so strongly believes I am lucky, that, each year, I am invited to be the first customer of the Lunar New Year. To optimize luck, everyone is dressed in cheongsams and a buffet of dumplings and other delicacies are set out. There are pictures and giggles as the celebrations start with the honorary first customer crossing the threshold and sitting in the first station and, most importantly, paying the first bill.
This is belief. Powerful belief. And I submit because I have a healthy respect for belief - and for luck. Since I am ruled by polarities, I have an equal respect for bad luck. I do not tempt fate.
Today, Friday the 13th, a day burdened with superstition, I am in Mexico with my friends. Trepidation for the day set in immediately upon planning the trip as the realization of its imminence hit me. October 13th inspired the question of whether it was possible to “duck luck". I questioned, given my visit to Mexico, whether the affect of this inauspicious day would be the same? And if not, could I breathe a sigh of relief? With a curious mind, I set out to determine whether the tradition was synchronous between Mexico and the US only to discover that it is not Friday the 13th that is considered unlucky in Mexico but Tuesday the 13th (martes trece). Since I will not experience Tuesday the 13th during my travels, have I sufficiently sidestepped the mala suerte (bad luck) of Friday 13th?
I chose to believe so - powerfully - and proceeded with planning the visit.
My mind was set. My perspective fixed.
I woke this morning unburdened by a day laden with historically bad juju. I dressed knowing that my friends in the states are dealing with the unlucky day, while I bask in a culture that has chosen Tuesdays instead.
I enjoy the spring in my step as I pay no heed to Goddess Fortuna.