it as a pressure valve against the suffocating weight of authority.
But its power was not only social; it was spiritual. To make a fig before a journey, in the face of gossip, or against envy was to draw an invisible circle of protection.
It turned the body into its own amulet, the hand into a tiny shield against fate. In that small, defiant motion lived a profound human wish: to say no to both oppression and misfortune, even when you had no other weapon but your own flesh.
