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  • Sometimes I believe I am old and not good for much anymore. Sometimes I do not feel so much energy. Like yesterday. I found a good book, though, and - as we are under the rains of a huge hurricane - I just sat in front of the fireplace reading and enjoying that, because that had not happened in a long time. I had wanted to meet a friend in the morning, but could not, because my stomach was upset. Maybe it was upset, because she had to tell me the details of a horrible story I maybe did not want to hear (yet)?

    This friend is a nurse and she accompanies the dying. She is one of the most loving individuals I have come across in my life. She works in the public hospital in our neighbor town Teopisca. Last Friday a little Mayan girl died there of an allergic shock. The people of her community came with a very violent leader, they forced all the employees of the hospital out and to walk barefoot through the streets while mocking them, calling them murderers, threatening to burn them alive - these horrifying things happen in the communities: lynchings of mostly innocent people! Maybe it is the rage of centuries of opression and misery finally exploding, but this is combined with leaders who are as corrupt and without moral as our politicians. The public humiliation went on for hours, the indigenous men got drunk, got more violent, spilled gasoline. The talk from the dead little girl went to promises the mayor had made in his campaign and not fulfilled, probably that is very true.. Finally police came, the mayor paid a high ransom, which did not go to the family of the dead girl, but straight to the leader, who is a man who controls the public transport between here and Teopisca.

    The hospital is closed now, every employee from doctors to night watchman with death threats upon them. The newspaper do not mention a word about this, they are all paid by our stupidstupid governor, who does not want bad publicity.

    My friend is in supershock. And so am I just by listening to what she has been through, a week ago, half an hour from me.

    While reading on my sofa, this friend wrote me through Whattsapp. She wrote me on a group I had been asked to establish on Whattsapp a few weeks ago for people affected by SUICIDE ( I have written about this). Another woman, who works as a psychologist in another Mayan community entered our conversation. Her name is Y. She had written to me that her father committed suicide many years ago and how that still weighs on her. I have never met this woman personally, where she works is far away from where I live. She understood the trauma my other friend is going through perfectly: Y. told us that her daughter was violently attacked by men, leaders of that community, a few years ago, beaten and nearly killed. After that, she writes, she did a lot of work on herself and got to understand the very different mentality of Mayan thinking ( I wonder what she means by this) and she has come to forgive and still works and very hard doing psychotherapy in that very same community.

    There was flowing and understanding between the 3 of us for a good while, just by sending short and interrupted messages and Y.s zoomed out a lot, because she has a very bad connection there in the mountains between here and Guatemala.

    In between our messenging back and forth and around another, third, woman, A., entered another conversation. She had originally inspired me to open this little Whattsapp - Suicide - Group, but had then left when a few others knew her husband. A. is a young mother of 3 kids. The oldest is 10 and barin damaged and autistic, the second one, about 5, is deaf and her little daughter is healthwise fine. A.´s husband works out of town and just returns home once and a few days every 3 months. Basically she is a single mother. She is a member of our Grupo Vision, but cannot come too often to our meetings, because she is so tied up with these 3 children. So she writes me a lot of messages. I feel that A. is on the verge of burning out and severe Depression. I have offered her therapy, but she has not taken me up on it. So I message back and forth with her.

    Last Monday we had the 3rd reunion of our new selfhelp group_ TAKING CARE OF CARETAKERS and as you can imagine I invited A. She could not attend, she says, as her husband does not know how to take care of his three kids for a couple of hours alone. During that session last Monday I listened to a lot of deeply moving stories, but one woman touched me deeper than any other person ( mostly always women in all these groups!! Where are the men? The male caretakers?) This woman´s name is DULCE, which means SWEET. A woman in her mid fifties, looking a bit older, a woman sweeter even than her name: she just emanated sweetness. Dulce is a single mother of a 26 year old daughter who suffered brain damage because of lack of oxygen during birth and still is like a 3 months old baby. And there is no father, of course, there is, but he is long gone and absent since forever. And Dulce gives herself to taking care for this adult baby and the love poured out of every pore of her skin....I just wanted to hug and hug her again.

    I asked for her phone number. Yesterday while sitting on my sofa under the rain and talking about all the violence and abuse with the other two ladies and with A. about her wanting to give up and in, I asked Dulce, if she would have a coffee with A. Yes she said and Whattsapp made it possible so very easily to connect A. and Dulce....

    I read a bit more and went to bed with my heart big. It seemed that nothing much had happened all afternoon, but then: a lot seems to have happened, while I sat pretty still in my corner of that sofa, thanks to my little iPhone!
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