Laurie Anderson - The Ugly One With the Jewels lyrics

In 1974 I went to Mexico to visit my brother
Who was working as an
Anthropologist with Tzotzil Indians
The last surviving Mayan tribe

And the Tzotzil speak a
Lovely birdlike language and
Are quite tiny physically I towered over them

Mostly, I spent my days
Following the women around
Since my brother wasn't really allowed to
Do this we got up at 3 AM
And began to separate the
Corn into three colors
Then we boiled it, ran to the mill and back
And finally started to make the tortillas

Now all the other women's tortillas
Were 360 degrees, perfectly toasted
Perfectly round and even after a
Lot of practice
Mine were still lopsided and charred
And when they thought I wasn't looking
They threw them to the dogs

After breakfast, we spent the rest of
The day down at the river
Watching the goats and braiding and
Unbraiding each other's hair so
Usually there wasn't that much
To report one day
The women decided to braid my
Hair Tzotzil-style after they
Did this I saw my reflection in a puddle
I looked ridiculous but they said:
"Before we did this you were ugly but
Now maybe you will find a husband"

I lived with them in a yurt
A thatched structure shaped like a cupcake
There's a central fireplace ringed
By sleeping shelves sort of like
A dry beaver dam
Now my Tzotzil name was Losha
Which loosely translated means "the ugly
One with the jewels"

Now ugly, OK, I was awfully
Tall by local standards
But what did they mean by the jewels?

I didn't find out what this meant
Until one night when I was
Taking my contact lenses out, and
Since I'd lost the case
I was carefully placing them on
The sleeping shelf suddenly
I noticed that everyone was staring at me and
I realized that none of the Tzotzil had
Ever seen glasses, much less contacts
And that these were the jewels the
Transparent, perfectly round
Jewels that I carefully hid on the
Shelf at night and then
Put - for safekeeping - into
My eyes every morning

So I may have been ugly, but so what?
I had the jewels

Full fathom five thy father lies
Of his bones are coral made
Those are pearls that were his eyes
Nothing of him that doth fade
But that suffers a sea change
Into something rich and strange
And I alone am left to tell the tale
Call me Ishmael