White Balloon

1
White Balloon

WHITE
BALLOON

A Story of magic, resilience, love and disability

By: T2S1

Any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence

2
 White Balloon

INDEX
PART ONE .................................................................................................... 7
I. THE NEXT DAY: FRIDAY, APRIL 1st 2011........................................... 8
II. NANDA .................................................................................................... 13
III. THE TRIP................................................................................................ 15
IV. PHOTOGRAPHER’S LIST .................................................................... 20
V. MADAME BLAVATSKY ....................................................................... 24
VI. PARALLEL STORIES ........................................................................... 30
VII. D’ANGELO ........................................................................................... 38
VIII. WAL2KA ............................................................................................. 43
IX. KITTY ..................................................................................................... 48
PART TWO ................................................................................................. 53
X. THE CRUISE ........................................................................................... 55
XI. THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE ......................................... 59
XII. PLAYA DEL CARMEN ....................................................................... 62
XIII. ILLY ..................................................................................................... 69
XIV. THE TAROT CARD ............................................................................ 75
XV. THE FOOL ............................................................................................ 81
XVI. THE THREE LOSSES ......................................................................... 97
XVII. VEINTE AÑOS ................................................................................ 101
XVIII. THE ALTAR OF DEAD ................................................................. 114
XIX. THE GIFT .......................................................................................... 118
PART THREE ........................................................................................... 125
WAL2KA’S DEATH: THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 2011 ........................... 126

3
White Balloon

AUTHOR'S NOTES ................................................................................... 136

4
White Balloon

5
White Balloon

6
 White Balloon

PART ONE

“Just as a mother protects her child at the risk of her own life,

That is how you must grow love in your heart, without limits for all
beings.
May your unlimited thoughts of love reach the entire world”.

Buddha

7
White Balloon

I. THE NEXT DAY: FRIDAY, APRIL 1st

2011

“Qué injusta, qué maldita, qué cabrona la muerte, que no nos mata a
nosotros sino a los que amamos”

(How unfair, damn shame, what a shitty death, what doesn’t kill us kills
those we love).

Carlos Fuentes

W
hen we returned to the apartment, it was already Friday
noon. I asked Mau to choose my best suit, a white shirt, a
tie and some shoes while I bathed. Aby, always friendly
and smiling, came over to ask me if I needed anything. At first, she
came only twice a week, but when Wal2ka got worse, I asked her to
come every day. Her joy and kindness would be very helpful for the
recovery of my friend. I decided not to say anything about what had
happened the night before so as not to sadden her, but I think that just
seeing my face she understood everything. I was still in shock, I
wanted to die too. I have never felt so much pain in my whole life.

I had survived pancreatitis less than five years ago. The doctors
had me on Valium and morphine for at least a week because the pain
was so extreme. I consider it a miracle to have come out of that. When
I was discharged, after 15 days, the nurses said they could hear my
cries throughout the hospital corridor. Although during my illness I
had suffered a lot, at that time the feeling was very different, there was
a mixture of pain and emptiness that became unbearable.

8
 White Balloon

I finished taking a shower and put on something simple for the

occasion, a white shirt and black pants. While Mau finished getting
ready, I put everything in a suitcase that had helped me to choose. I
was hoping that the body was already in the wake to be able to fix it,
however, everything was complicated when the Public Ministry
informed me that they could not deliver it to me because I was not a
direct family member. Luckily, among the phone numbers we could
get was that of an uncle of Wal2ka’s who supported us by recognizing
the body before the authorities. In addition, he made the corresponding
procedure to remove it from the morgue and be able to take it to the
wake.

The previous hours had been a nightmare between the initial

interrogation with the police, the declaration before the Public
Prosecutor's Office and the call I had to make at that time in the
morning to Miami to explain to Ana that her son had died and that she
must come to Mexico.

The interrogation in the Public Prosecutor's Office lasted five

hours for having entered the department at the warning of the
building's doorman who did not hesitate to clarify that, if I entered and
touched the body, it would be at my own risk. At that moment I could
not stand there as if nothing had happened. I thought that if there was
only one chance to save Wal2ka, I would take it and then assume the
consequences. So I headed to where the body was.

Picco and Mau didn’t separate from me for a single moment but
the rest of the witnesses gradually vanished so as not to get involved in
a legal problem. Thanks to several fortuitous situations and my
coherence in answering the malicious questions from the interrogation
officer, they finally, dismissed my direct participation in his death. At
that moment they released me, but, over time, they would interrogate
me again to clarify the facts before a Public Ministry that, clearly, was
trying to make me accept some kind of responsibility in the death of
my best friend. That case would not close until almost a year later,
when Wal2ka's family was finally convinced that I only touched to try

9
White Balloon

to help him; the bad thing is that my fingerprints were everywhere,

even in one of the murder weapons.

When I got home there were many calls on the answering

machine. I never knew who of the five witnesses who were in
Wal2ka's apartment that tragic night wrote a message on Facebook to
inform the acquaintances of the way he had died. That fact changed
everything he intended to say about the incident. As agreed with Picco
and Mau, the story would be that Wal2ka had fallen from the stairs of
his apartment fatally hitting his head. A white lie to not damage the
image of my friend, but it was too late. Besides, the most difficult part
was still missing, to give Ana the body.

We arrived at the wake and Wal2ka’s relatives were already

congregating. We were close for more than 20 years and I didn't know
he had so many in Mexico, I only met his parents, but in my house
Wal2ka was considered a member of the family, even for the youngest
family member he was like an uncle.
I went to the offices of the watch agency and after a small procedure;
they guided me to the special section where the bodies are prepared. When I
entered I wanted to die when I saw Wal2ka's naked body, it seemed as if a
shark had bitten him. The autopsy they did was savage. I took the things that
Mau had separated from the suit-holder. As we could, we left it as
presentable as possible. He looked elegant dressed in a suit and thanks to the
makeup artist, even for being so mistreated he made Wal2ka resemble
himself again. I went to see him inside the coffin. Rather than being in front
of a dead man, I thought I saw my friend asleep.

I went to the assigned room to watch it and upon entering, I

noticed that the place was full of unknown people. Their pale faces
with Aryan features reflected the pain of those who have lost a loved
one. About two hours later, in the distance I could distinguish Ana’s
silhouette that came with great regret. When she reached the place
where I was, she looked at me with his deep blue eyes and in them I
could see terror, pain and total confusion. An image that I will not
forget so easily. That Galician lady, who was always so smiling and
jovial, was scrapped and could only articulate a few words, and then
10
 White Balloon

she went straight to her son's coffin. At that moment I realized that I
no longer had anything to do there, I didn't know anyone, just the dead
man and his mother. I discreetly told Mau to leave.

When I passed some people I heard that one of his brothers had
already taken the flight from New York to Mexico and when I left the
place I saw that another of his brothers arrived with his wife. It gave
me peace of mind to know that Ana would be accompanied by her
whole family.

A few minutes after arriving at my house, I received a call from

the film producer Christian "Blue", who wanted to know how I was. I
told him a little about Wal2ka's wake and he told me about an
experience he had a couple of years ago with a friend from New York.
That call fell from the sky because for an hour I explained in detail all
the stages of the pain that I was going to live from that moment. He
recommended that the first thing I had to do was remove some kind of
responsibility or guilt from what had happened.

When we hung up I reflected on his words and felt that he had

taken a weight off me. It had been more than 24 hours since the
nightmare began; time had flown between the interrogations and all
the setbacks that we had to go through to deliver the body.

Wal2ka was the person who had the most influence in my life,
essentially he was my soul mate and it was clear to me that what I
needed to do in that moment was to find a reasonable cause that
justified what I saw. If I couldn't get that horror scene out of my mind
as quickly as possible, I would go crazy...

11
White Balloon

12
 White Balloon

II. NANDA

“Dime como te diviertes y te diré quién eres”

(Tell me how you have fun and I’ll tell you who you are)

José Ortega y Gasset

I
was in my office when I received the call from Nanda, a very dear
friend of Wal2ka. She has always been a very direct woman and
that occasion was no exception. Without wasting time, she told
me: “I need to see you; I want to see that you are well and rest assured
that you don't need anything. Let's have dinner on Thursday. ” It was
August and 4 months had passed since Wal2ka's death. In those days
many friends were on the lookout and the visits to my house had
become constant. That call was an ideal pretext to see Nanda, so we
agreed to go to dinner at "The Harlequin", a French restaurant that was
close to where I lived. In that place they served my favorite dessert, a
cake of the millennium according to the owner Thomas, who is an
eccentric Frenchman.

In the end, for different reasons we could not see each other on
Thursday and we changed the appointment for Saturday at lunchtime.
We had not seen each other for a while, but seeing her brought me
memories of those great parties I had with Wal2ka in my apartment in
the Cuauhtémoc neighborhood. The building where we lived had its
own history. It had been built by the award-winning architect Luis
Barragan and some neighbors said that he used to live in that same
apartment, during one of his many stays in Mexico, a Chilean poet and

13
White Balloon

ambassador, and a Nobel Prize winner. Therefore, the building per se

was a magical place.

It was a meal full of anecdotes about the fun parties we had. She
confessed to me that one of the things that always surprised her was
the amount of people we could put in that medium-sized place. I
smiled almost to the point of laughter and she told me "there was
mole, sweet and butter". In a humorous tone she compared them with
“Livin' La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin.
livin la vida loca
Come On!
Livin la vida loca,
Come on!
She's livin la vida loca."

And it was true; all the guests lived “la vida loca”. In our parties
you could never miss the eclectic music of DJ Wal2ka, drugs, a large
number of guests behaving very badly and alcohol in abundance, since
the entrance fee was a bottle per person, they were parties without
limits.

When they served us the second meal, Nanda apologized and told
me the reason she had arrived a few minutes late for lunch. She was
volunteering at a foundation for people with disabilities. By the time
dessert and coffee arrived, we were engaged in the history of that
foundation in which she had been volunteered since childhood, to
distract me, she invited me to be part of the new volunteer team. We
finished eating and said goodbye in a hurry because she had to pick up
her son. I kept calling her to accompany her to learn about the
foundation.

14
 White Balloon

III. THE TRIP

“Travel is the best way to get lost and meet at the same time”.

Brenna Smith

W
hile I was having dinner at the Red Bistro with Mau, I
talked to him about my meeting the day before with
Nanda. Mau recommended that before getting involved in
a volunteer project, it was necessary for me to be distracted a little, to
take a few more days to close the chapter on Wal2ka's death. I thought
about it for a while, and when we left the restaurant while they were
bringing my car around I said, "I'm going on a trip."
Wal2ka said that pain and depression were cured by traveling, the
greater the pain, the trip would have to be just as great. His life
revolved around music. In one of his many depressions, at a moment
of momentum, he bought tickets to go to New York with the only
mission of doing a marathon of the different musical works on the
billboard charts. Although he was very cautious with his money, on
that occasion he decided to not make Broadway ugly or enjoy the
Martini that was served in our favorite hotel. We loved The
Paramount, a boutique hotel located on 46th Street, between Broadway
and Eighth Avenue, remodeled by designer Philippe Starck. Finally,
the days were so fun that they managed to make him forget his
problems (at least for that moment). Traveling was a way to get out of
his depression, and I followed that same logic, this time I needed to do
it to forget that loss that I could not overcome.

15
White Balloon

Among all Wal2ka's friends, there was a person who was having a
hard time, Charly "El Charrito". Between so many parties and
adventures that were spent together, they were the equivalent of the
two cheerful compadres and Playa del Carmen the place of their
successes. Charly is a character who will never say no to a party,
therefore, he was the perfect person to accompany me on this farewell
trip. I called him and when he answered I said: "Charrito, ask for
vacation because we are going on a trip".

The first time I saw Charrito was in 1999. I worked for human
resources in Coca-Cola and I had to interview him for a vacancy in
marketing, but Carlos lacked experience and we decided to find
another candidate to fill the position.

Years later in one of the most fabulous clubs in the city, owned by
my beloved Jorge, “The Box” in Polanco, I was at the bar and when I
wanted to pay for my vodka on the rocks, a person behind me
approached and told the bartender: "That drink is on me. I’d like to
treat the man who didn’t want to hire me." The comment made me
laugh so much that after that he became one of my greatest friends.

The trip was just beginning when we got out of the taxi at
Avenida da Liberdade 127 right at the entrance of the Sofitel Lisbon
Liberdade Hotel. El Charrito was still talking through his hat about the
wonderful landscapes of that European city, when, at the time of
registering, the receptionist handed me a card with a message that said:

“I arrived from last night; I will pass for you at 9:00 p.m. I
already made the reservation; we will have dinner at the Bica do
Sapato restaurant. GCast will meet us there. Regards, Renzo. ”

Meeting casually on that trip with Renzo and GCast was a matter
of luck, when I arrived at that restaurant, I automatically returned to a
time two years ago, when Nuno “The Portuguese” took me to know
this wonderful place and while we had dinner he told me that
Restaurant was famous for its food, but the real fame was because the
owner was a renowned Hollywood actor.

16
 White Balloon

On the way to the restaurant, Renzo told us funny stories about his
travels. Shortly before midnight GCast arrived and dinner went
naturally in the company of those three great friends so dear to me. We
engaged in the talk to such an extent that there came a time when
Charrito and I did not stop talking about our stories with Wal2ka, until
Renzo emphatically said: "Get over it and let it go." There an awkward
silence fell upon us, I understood the words of my dear friend and I
realized that it was time and, I had to turn the page immediately.

We went to dance at the LuxFrágil Club to continue enjoying

another of the fashionable places owned by actor John Malkovich. We
were dancing on the dance floor of the first floor; "Atomic" by Blondie
was pounding. GCast approached me and discreetly without anyone
noticing, he said in my ear: "Wal2ka, never forget him, but let him
go", as he walked away dancing and singing Blondie:
“Tonight make it magnificent, tonight,
Make me tonight. Your hair is beautiful Oh, tonight
Atomic

The next day I went with El Charrito to a beach that was an hour
and a half outside the city. Two years ago, I was able to get to know
that tourist part thanks to Nuno "The Portuguese", who as a good local
inhabitant and avoids the bustle of vacationers and their families, took
me to a place where the most adventurous visitors used to park. It was
a piece of beach a little removed from the typical tourist area. To that
same place I took the Charrito, once we settled, I lit a joint (which I
had in hiding last night) and he relaxed drinking directly from a bottle
of tequila he bought in a liquor store a block away of the hotel. The
occasion warranted him, El Charrito put a playlist on his cell phone.
After a few minutes, we made a pact between friends. We agreed to
write one a farewell phrase each for Wal2ka. We would put the papers
in the bottle of tequila and leave it buried on that beach away from
everyone.

17
White Balloon

We spent hours sharing anecdotes and in the end, we read the

farewell phrases we had written. They were two small phrases with
great meaning. The Charrito wrote "Thank you for all the adventures";
my farewell was an allusion to my great universal hero, Aristotle, "A
true friend is a soul in two bodies." Charriti’s cell phone was playing a
song by an English artist who used to be a soccer player. I was
performing that song that we had danced so many times together:
I and my monkey
drove in search of the sun

El Charrito stopped dancing trying to imitate the sensual steps of

Robbie Williams and pointing to me every time “Me and My Monkey”
appeared in the song lyrics, meanwhile, I lit another joint and lay on
the sand looking to heaven, enjoying that fun song.
Trying to understand
why he did , what he did
why he did, what he did.

When it was getting dark, we rolled up the pieces of paper, put

them in the bottle that still had some tequila and we buried it deep in
the sand. Thus we would symbolically close a chapter of our lives. We
got up and returned to the tourist area to get lost again among families
and children who continued to enjoy a warm afternoon-night on the
beach.

18
White Balloon

19
White Balloon

IV. PHOTOGRAPHER’S LIST

“Behind every beautiful thing, there is some kind of pain”.

Bob Dylan

W
hen I returned from the trip I made with El Charrito, I was
completely convinced to get involved with the volunteer
project that Nanda had invited me to. I talked with Nanda
to see if I could meet her next weekend and join the rest of the team.
The foundation was more impressive than I had imagined, they had
several facilities and each of them housed different children and teens
with cerebral palsy. At the time of taking the tour as part of the
induction I discovered a world that I honestly did not know existed, I
had a friend with Down Syndrome that I had met in April called
D'Angelo, but cerebral palsy was different, it was a very hard
disability because whoever has it has mobility problems. At first it was
very difficult to assimilate, but the atmosphere in their classrooms was
of such cordiality that it seemed that everyone had known each other
for a lifetime and the new ones were made to feel like part of the
foundation from the first moment.

Little by little I learned about the needs of those assisted, my

activity in volunteering was to create projects that generated monetary
income for the foundation, so I took on the task of researching the
collection campaigns that were in the media and which had been the
most successful. The advantage of the internet is that it helped me get
to know what as being done worldwide, but I discovered that the
campaigns that had the most impact oddly enough had nothing to do

20
 White Balloon

with cerebral palsy, so I ended up at exactly the same point, but with a
lot of information that I would use to generate a strategy.

As there was not much reference to designing a fundraising

project, I recalled an article that talked about a success story in the
world of philanthropy. It said that among the one hundred most
popular foundations was the Greenpeace Foundation. Best of all, it
was self-financing because the proceeds from the sale went entirely to
your charity. It occurred to me to do something like that, but the
problem was the weather because we were already in the second week
of September.

I talked to Nanda and she had a good idea. We immediately

presented the project to the administration, they all told me that it
would be crazy for the time of year, but if I was 100% in charge of the
project, which implied assuming the costs and risks, for them there
would be no problem. So they gave me the green light to start.

The first thing I did was call Memo, at that time he was the
director of a well-known magazine that was called the same as a
famous Italian film from the 1960s directed by Visconti where Alain
Delon and Claudia Cardinale appeared. Memo without problem gave
me an appointment for seven o'clock in his office in La Condesa.
When I arrived, the receptionist told me he was busy that I would have
to wait about 10 minutes. In the meantime, I observed the employees
of the magazine that were mostly a mixture of hippies and
intellectuals. In the reception, they listened to Latin American Trova at
a moderate volume. When I sat in that comfortable chair “Everything
Changes" by Mercedes Sosa, was ending and "The Song of the
Chosen" by Silvio Rodriguez began. That was one of my dad’s
favorites that he liked to play on his Phillips record player when I was
a child.

That song reminded me a lot of my dad. That kind of music

represented his ideals so well; he was a true hippie of the sixties and
could have perfectly worked at this magazine. Just then, Memo
appeared.

21
White Balloon

He told me that he only had 45 minutes to meet before going to

the next meeting. In his office I had coffee while he poured himself a
mezcal (typical Mexican beverage). He listened carefully to my project
and said I was crazy to make 12 photographs for a calendar in a
month, but I was so excited that the only thing that was clear was that
if I wanted something professional, I had to hire professional
photographers. He gave me a list of the photographers that he
considered to be the most appropriate to do the project. The list had
seven additional names in case anyone was not available due to
workloads or scheduling. There were 19 photographers on the list.

To complete the list, we had to get each phone number or email.

This turned out to be a relatively easy task because his assistant had a
well-managed database and in a matter of minutes, we already had the
data of all the photographers we would invite. The plan for this project
was 12 locations that would reflect the daily life in Mexico. The
protagonists would only be people with disabilities, but the most
important thing was still missing. Memo asked me if I had a budget for
the project. I had received a portion of Wal2ka's life insurance and I
felt this would be the best way to use that money. We would pay each
photographer per photo delivered. He took the list in his hands and
after analyzing it, he wrote on the side of each name the amount that I
should offer as payment for each photographer’s service.

The calendar photos should have something in common, what the

marketing specialists call "thread", since it is important to find a
narrative among all the photographs. Each photograph would be taken
by a different artist, with their own technique and style. At that
moment, I remembered a story with Wal2ka. We were on a cruise ship
and saw a white balloon inflated with helium in the sky. Wal2ka made
it clear to me that helium balloons rarely fly up to the sky, that they
often travel more horizontal than vertical distances. Just when the
balloon was lost in the clouds, he told me: “I would like to be that
white balloon, to get away from everything and get lost on the
horizon.” The phrase stuck in my memory, so I asked Memo if the
thread could be a white balloon. The idea seemed excellent.

22
 White Balloon

When we said goodbye, he told me that if I could convince the

two photographers who were at the top of the list, it would be much
easier for the rest to want to participate in the project, so I had to focus
on them. I read both names: Yvonne and Dulce. I promised to keep
him in mind; he accompanied me to my car making it clear that
anything I needed could mark him without problem. When I was
driving to my parents' house, one of my favorite songs began to play
on the radio. I loved the lyrics that reminded me so much of Wal2ka.
Yo te quiero con limón y sal,
yo te quiero tal y como estás,
no hace falta, cambiarte nada.
...And by chance, the first name that appeared on Memo's list of
photographers was Yvonne, the twin sister of this singer.

23
White Balloon

V. MADAME BLAVATSKY

“The darkness adopted enlightenment in order to become visible”

Helena Petrovna Blavatsky

M
y dad, my mom, their friends and I were in the hospital
emergency room again. Everyone ran from one place to
another so they could assist us. This story really began 12
days earlier on February 2, 1972. Like today, we all ran to the hospital
because a baby was going to be born. That day the doctor told Pily:
"Madam, if you live nearby you can go home now, for the moment, it
was just a false alarm." But this time it was different, everything
indicated that the contractions were real. While we were in the
delivery room, we heard the success of the moment, “How can you
mend a broken heart?” by The Bee Gees:
But I was never told about the sorrow
How can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?

With that music in the background, it occurred to me the moment

to be born on the cheesiest day of the year, yes, on Tuesday, February
14, 1972, at 1:05 p.m.

Throughout his life Pily would say that I loved music because
instead of crying, I came into this world singing. On the other hand,
my dad said that everyone in the family was very musical by

24
 White Balloon

inheritance; his grandfather had written the "Olimpica Waltz," this

waltz famous in Mexico during the early twentieth century.

It was a blessing to have grown up in a family that had a very

liberal life ideology compared to those of my friends. Polo and Pily,
like many young people, participated in the 1968 student movement
and at home could talk about everything from sex, religion, soccer and
news. But the main theme at the dinner table was dedicated to talking
about politics. It was a subject that fascinated my parents and Tita, my
paternal grandmother who lived in front of us. The talks were very
funny because sarcasm and good humor reigned. Grandma Tita knew a
lot about politics, she had worked for former mexican president,
General Lázaro Cardenas.

Pragmatism was part of my education. One of the many theories

that my parents drew from their sleeves said that "All human beings
had come to this underworld to be happy and learn from mistakes, but
that few people understood." At home everything was like a party and
fun, there were always friends over who were practically part of the
family. My home was the meeting point for everyone, so we grew up
with many people around us. During my first 13 years of life I was
known as El Dulce Sueños (The Sweet Dreams), because I slept with a
tranquility that made everyone envious, but my tranquility was
undoubtedly due to the security provided by my parents.

One time when I was eight years old, my dad asked me to

accompany him to watch him play baseball. When we were about to
get into the car to return home, he looked at me with those good-
natured green eyes that reflected an infinite goodness and told me that
we would never have problems if he complied with two simple rules.
The first was that I had to read a book of my choice for one hour a day,
and the second, I had to always trust him, and that he would try to be
my friend. That day I remembered it perfectly because he taught me
how to drive his car and that was why we became accomplices.
It seemed that Pily was always watching me and following me
with her huge feline eyes, those green eyes that made people, without

25
White Balloon

knowing her, tell her that they were the prettiest they had ever seen.
They were so expressive, full of light and yet so mysterious that when
she told us a secret they would be illuminated to such an extent that
they gave the impression of being two emeralds. I remember that when
I was in elementary school, I was pressured by some homework and
she said: “Don't worry so much about school, be a child, be happy,
play, have fun and learn what you have to learn. I am going to tell you
a family secret your Grandma Tita told your dad and I. After six of
qualification, everything is vanity, so stop pressing yourself and go
play with your brothers.”

Religion was never an imposition in the family, there was always

a freedom of worship and although we were baptized according to
Catholic tradition, we never made our first communion. Instead of
going to Sunday school, we played baseball in the church yard. It was
common to find Pily reading books with dark themes. She had a very
old Bible, Tarot Cards, 18 Shells, and Viking Runes, a blue and white
collar with some warriors who accompanied a powerful Cuban Elegua
who protected her from all evil. When Pily began to cry alone, it was
an omen that something bad was going to happen and she was rarely
wrong.

On one of my trips, I stayed at the Liabeny Hotel in Madrid. This

place is a strategic location for tourists. While I was on my way to
Puerta del Sol, one block from the hotel just in front of Plaza del
Carmen, I found an esoteric shop and, on the sideboard, there was a
book that caught my attention. The writer was a Spaniard named
Mario Roso de Luna and it was the biography of Helena Petrovna
Blavatsky, who was nicknamed “The Sphinx of the 20th Century.” She
was a well-known character in the world of occultism because she
founded the Theosophical Society. I was surprised to see the cover of
the book. There appeared a photograph of the protagonist and for a
moment I thought I was seeing my mother. They were identical, the
same face, the same look and those expressive green eyes. Without a
doubt, it was her reincarnation. Without thinking, I bought the book to
give to Pily. This would be one of the gifts she would most appreciate

26
 White Balloon

and become one of her bedside books. From that day on, I would
jokingly call her "Madame Blavatsky".

When I said goodbye to Memo with the list of the 19

photographers in hand, I went to my house, but after a minute of
thought, I changed my route and went to my parents' house. I got out
of the car still humming the song "Limón y Sal" by Julieta Venegas
and, when I went to ring the doorbell, then my mother opened the door
as if she was waiting for me. It seemed as if he knew he was going to
arrive.

It was common to have visits at the house and that day was no
exception. Sitting in the dining room were my dad, Grandma Tita, two
of my dad’s friends and Polito, my eldest brother who had been forced
into exile by a marital argument at his in-laws' house. I quickly joined
the group to finish tasting one of those elaborate Mexican dishes that
were typical prepared in the house.

While we were having dinner, a song was heard on the stereo,

José José’s “Él (Him).” Again my father's two friends began the never-
ending discussion of whether the version that José José “The Prince of
the song” was better than the version of Rupert Holmes. That
discussion took years without anyone being able to reach a conclusion.
Personally, I liked the Spanish versión.

After dinner, in the middle of a heated musical debate that now

had the theme of comparing the song “My Way” and which version
was better, Sinatra or Elvis “The King” Presley, I got up to help
Grandma Tita and my mom to clear the dishes from the table. When
we finished, I asked Pily to give me a few minutes, I had to ask her
about a project.

We went to her bedroom and told her in detail about the latest
events, starting with the meal with Nanda, the trip with the Charrito,
the visit to the disability institution, my recent interview with Memo,
the story of how the White Balloon had emerged and I even showed
her the list with the names of the photographers. Everything was going

27
White Balloon

very fast and I needed some advice from you to see if I continued with
the project.

She lit her Cuban cigar, served some liquor shot glass and took a
good drink, took out her tarot cards, her runes and prayed to a father of
ours. She asked me: "Do you want my advice or do you want someone
else's advice?" On that occasion I asked her to decide. Since
everything was ready, she replied: "First I’ll give you my mother's
advice and then let's see what the cards tell us."

After about three quarters of an hour, we joined the group that was
in the middle of a heated debate, now the topic was politics. Even
Grandma Tita had been served a tequila. I was there for almost an hour
longer and I decided to leave because they were about to start a game
of dominoes. It would be another endless night at my parents' house.
When I got in the car I was already clear that it would be best to
continue with the White Balloon project even though the first
prediction of the tarot roll had not been good at all.

28
White Balloon

29
White Balloon

VI. PARALLEL STORIES

“Everything a person can imagine, others can make it happen”

Julio Verne

W
hat seemed impossible was achieved and the photographs
were ready by the last week of October. It had been a
challenge to locate the 19 photographers to be part of the
project, but through my insistence and conviction, everyone ended up
participating. In the end, not only did we have the 12 photographs we
needed for the calendar, the White Balloon project ended up as a
photographic series with 21 images that reflected disability from a
humane and dignified look. Each photographer's lens empowered
children and teens with cerebral palsy who appeared in the
photographs. Only one photo was different, there was a child with
downs syndrome who was my friend D’Angelo, and he appeared in the
photo with a candy doing magic in the forest. It was a very well-done
piece of work by the 19 photographers. Fede and Álvaro gave me an
additional photo.

When someone asked me why the photo series contained 21

images, I would answer them as my dear friend Andy would explain to
me: “According to scientists, the soul weighs 21 grams, that's why our
photo series has 21 images. The White Balloon has the spirit of
Wal2ka.”

At that time, I worked for a company had a foundation dedicated

to art and I went to consult one of its employees about my project. He
was a well-known Frenchman. I told him the story of White Balloon
30
 White Balloon

and that at that time we were in the process of starting with the
photographs. He recognized my list of photographers and mentioned
that this could be an interesting undertaking for the arts. He also
mentioned that all images should be documented, and that, if all the
pictures had been paid for, we should now look for a historian or
journalist who I could write about the process of preparing each
photograph. The advice didn't sound crazy to me.

I spoke with Memo to ask if he saw the idea of documenting each

work done by the photographers, so that we passed the story on for
future generations. Not only did he think the idea was great, he
immediately gave me the phone number of a journalist he knew, a
person who could be a perfect addition to the project.

The process we followed for each photograph was the following:

each photographer had to go to the foundation to live with the children
with cerebral palsy, among all those present they would choose from
those with whom they had felt more empathy towards, with this we
guaranteed that in the images no one would be pitifully reflected and
we would not expose their disability. Each child chosen would have to
have the authorization of their parents or guardian to lend their image
to the project, which was a simple undertaking thanks to the
intervention of the directors of the foundation. At that time I had all
their support and I saw them very excited about the calendar.

Setting the scenes for each image was a challenge. The

photographers had given me a proposal that included their ideal
scenario. We were able to get all of them; among them were the
stadium of Ciudad Universitaria, the Mexico Arena with some lucha
libre fighters, a television soundstage, the helipad of a Polanco
building, Chapultepec Forest, La Marquesa Park, one of the entrance
gates of the National Palace, the Natural Art Museum of Puebla, a
pool, an industrial paint factory for ships and planes, a boxing gym in
Tepito and the institution itself lent its facilities for some of the
photographs. As a result we had 21 unique photographs.

31
White Balloon

At the time I interviewed the journalist to ask how he would like

to work every story, there was good chemistry and that gave me peace
of mind. After we talked, I knew he would do a good job. He seemed
like the typical journalist from "The All-Powerful" Irving Wallace
novel written in 1982. When we reached the topic of his fees, I almost
turned him away, but with his credentials and ease of speech, I thought
he would be the best. In addition, we did not have much time since that
same week we began to take the first photographs, so I decided to take
the risk and pay it. The stories that the journalist developed turned out
to be an experiential reflection of each photograph. At the end of the
project our writer had a nervous breakdown due to the pressure of
creating the stories in less than two weeks, he received his pay, he
gave his work and I never heard from him again, thanks to the
payment for his work, I was able to share fragments of his narratives
during the White Balloon expositions.

The title assigned to each of the images was decided by each

photographer and in all cases respected, with the title of the
photographs you can imagine what the final result looked like. Each of
the twenty-one images reflects the enthusiasm of the photographers to
do something different and unique, the way that I can describe that
moment is incomparable to the work done by the journalist but in the
end the stories are parallel, and I would like to relive some from them
from my perspective.

At the end of each photograph I had called or meet with each artist
for them to share their experience, in those emotionally filled talks, I
still get goosebumps when I remember the positive reactions I could
hear from each photographer, some still were speechless from the
experience. They told me from the moment they captured the final
image, the order in which each of the images were finished was the
following:

32
 White Balloon

LA FIESTA DE MIS SUEÑOS / THE PARTY OF MY DREAMS / Photographer L. M.

This photograph was taken at the Arena Mexico, to get the stage it
had been a true “via crucis” for all the administrative procedures we
had to do. When I received the call from Luis, that a young
photographer was still nervous and his voice was heard as if I was a
child who just received the best gift in the world, I explained that just
that day they were recording a reality TV show called “El Luchador”
where several professional wrestlers participated, which are the
equivalent of our Mexican superheroes. Luis literally put together a
party in the ring where a child with motor disabilities was present, also
in the image were some of his friends, tutors who accompanied the
children and even the balloon seller appears, they had bought a huge
cake for the occasion. All of the shots of the photographs were looking
great, but the most culminating moment that made the party in the ring
crazy was when “The Son of the Ghost” and “Atlantis” were
integrated and just then, the photographer achieved the expected
image.
UN COLORIDO DIA DE CAMPO /A COLORFUL FIELD DAY / Photographer P. D.

Paola was responsible for taking this picture in the Chapultepec

Forest. When we talked on the phone a couple of hours after finishing
it, she explained to me, that the image she made proved to be very
authentic and was reflected to a typical family group in the capital that
enjoys a laté in that forest that is in the center of the city. One of the
most beautiful forests in the world and that experience ended up being
a true picnic, where all the children enjoyed a meal full of anecdotes, I
explain that there came a time when everyone smiled happily at the
jokes told by the father of one of the children with disabilities and it
was there that she took the picture.
FIESTA SORPRESA/ SURPRISE PARTY / &UN GOL UNA ILUSIÓN / A GOAL AN
ILLUSION / Photographer F. G.

Federico prepared two images for the photographic series; the first
was a surprise party for children, he made it from the top floor of the

33
White Balloon

building that houses that noble institution. It is a department adapted

for people with disabilities to learn to perform daily activities such as:
making the bed, iron, wash, use the kitchen, etc., Fede, took advantage
of the space, he bought a basket tacos for the participants and without
thinking, put mixed music to dance to. The final result: “An
Unforgettable Party” that was reflected in the image. For the second
photograph, thanks to Nanda, access to the University City stadium
was granted, that photograph had to be redone because of poor
communication and logistics when the photographer and children
arrived on stage, they were preparing for a football game and not the
typical soccer field we all know. The children had their soccer
uniforms we had bought them and the field did not lend itself to the
image because the goals were not in place, so they we had to return
three days later to take the photo. When the desired image was
achieved and everyone was leaving the stadium, at that same time the
players from the PUMAS team came to train, and kindly greeted the
children. Federico would later tell me via telephone that it was a
magical moment and it was worth having returned to take the picture.
EN UN LUGAR DE VERTIGO / IN A PLACE OF VÉRTIGO Photographer G.

Torrential rain was falling and inside my car while we each had a
Starbucks coffee, photographer Gudinni explained in detail the
photograph he had taken that day in the morning. He used a space
under one of the bridges of the Inner Circuit just in front of where
Cosmos Cinema was. There, between the models that he hired for the
photo and the boys who performed spins on skateboards and on their
bicycles, he placed among the artists our main character who was
rolling in his wheelchair towards a ramp He took the picture at the
moment when a cyclist could be seen practically flying in the
background making a sort of high level of complexity and risk. The
photo turned out as an image of vertigo.
UNA MADRE Y DOS HIJAS DE CONCURSO / A MOTHER AND TWO DAUGHTERS
COMPETING Fotógrafo Y. V.

“Sure, no problema, I’ll help you,” were Rafa’s words who was
the General Director of the Network. We met at the T.V. studio that
34
 White Balloon

was requested for our superstar Yvonne Venegas. She wanted a

contest picture, something that motivated other mothers of children
with disabilities and this photo can reflect the very Mexican phrase
“You can do it.” During the visit to the Institution, she met two
students, twins who both had cerebral palsy, as previously agreed,
Yvonne’s memory without a doubt was this mother that had a smile on
her face the entire time. She was a warrior that reflected her
unconditional love while maintaining her strength, as Mexicans always
say, “at the foot of the cannon,” this woman that every day has to give
in to the adversity of playing a double role. The photo was taken on
the stage of one of the most important news programs on T.V. The
photo reflects a hypothetical contest where all three beautiful women,
day after day, have to overcome challenges that life has thrown at
them, and that is why our dear photographer had no doubt but to pay
homage to this woman who not only deserved a gold medal, but the
respect and recognition of all who appear in this image throughout
time.

And so, each photographer talked to me one by one about the

images so I could know the stories behind each of the 21 images.
SIGUIENDO LA LIBERTAD, Fotógrafo E. L. de G

UN ÁNGEL TATUADO EN LA PIEL, Fotógrafo M.M.

AMOR EN LAS ALTURAS, Fotógrafo P. M

UNA DANZANTE ANGELICAL, Fotógrafo A. M

LA CORONA DE LAURA, Fotógrafo R. Ch.

EN LA MIRADA DE UN NIÑO, Fotógrafo A. N.

UP – ARRIBA Y ADELANTE, Fotógrafo A.

EL VUELO DE CARLITOS, Fotógrafo J. del O.

MAGIA EN EL BOSQUE, Fotógrafo D. P.

LIBERTAD SOBRE EL MURO, Fotógrafo P. S.

TRIBUTO A LOS TRABAJADORES, Fotógrafo J. S.

EL MUNDO DE GUILLERMO, Fotógrafo A. S.

35
White Balloon

LA DOBLE REFLEXIÓN, Fotógrafo I. S.

UNA MADRE Y DOS HIJAS DE CONCURSO, Fotógrafo Y. V.

NUEVOS AMIGOS PARA ARTURO, Fotógrafos F. R. L. / C. V.

GUANTES DE BOX PARA LA PASIÓN, Fotógrafo A. W.

With this image of “Guantes de Box para la pasión” (Boxing

Gloves for Passion) that was set in the ring of a legendary Tepito gym
and photographed by the talented Adam Wiseman. We finished the
photographic series of the White Balloon project, thanks to everyone
who had participated to make it a reality, especially Nanda, Yayo,
Renzo, Picco, Rafita, among others.

For my part, I already had everything ready, the photographs and

the stories, now we only had to confirm with the directors of the
institution if a calendar, an agenda, a book, or what would be made
with the material. We were already in the last days of October.

Nanda spoke with me on the phone to confirm the appointment

with the administrative officers of the institution and I was happy to
meet her at a restaurant in Prado Sur. When I arrived at the table, they
were all there. I sat down, we talked a little about the weather and we
ate dinner. After finishing dinner, in a subtle way and with a lot of tact,
they informed me that the White Balloon project was canceled. They
thanked me for the time dedicated and they were aware of the
expenses, but had performed an analysis on the chances of success of
the calendar and the results could be very limited. They had decided
that for their short-term strategies neither the photos nor the stories
would be useful, but that I could use the images as long as I kept them
informed how they would be used.

Sparks! I now had in my possession a photographic series with 21

images and a detailed history of each one, but without a clear plan or
purpose in which to use this work. I had no idea what I was going to
do with the White Balloon project.

When the valet parking arrived with my car a heavy storm was
falling. I could not believe that all the effort would have been useless. I

36
 White Balloon

drove for a few blocks; I stopped at a public park, got out of the car,
walked in the torrential storm and sat on a bench for a while. When I
had relieved myself, I got in the car soaked and talked to Pily to
confirm that the first prediction of the play he made with his tarot
cards had been fulfilled.

37
White Balloon

VII. D’ANGELO

“Si te ríes de un niño diferente, él se sonreirá contigo porque su inocencia

sobrepasa tu ignorancia”

(If you laugh at a child who is different, he will smile with you because his
innocence exceeds your ignorance)

Anonymous

E
very year there was a party at Kidzania of Santa Fe, and I
being one of the people in charge of Human Resources, arrived
early to set up. It was Saturday, April 30, 2011, not a month
had passed since Wal2ka died, and I was already hosting a family
event to celebrate Children's Day. That day we would receive more
than 200 families, so the show had to go on.

I was talking to the company doctor, when Chava came over to

greet me with his family. He was a mechanic whom I knew well. He
had many job skills, moreover, for that reason we had integrated him
into the “Seedbed of Talents”, which was a staff development program
that I designed to detect talent and create new supervisors to make the
plants more productive. As his mentor, I knew his capabilities, he was
very analytical, and on top of that, he had a highly developed
numerical mind.

When he greeted us, he introduced me to his family, and there he

was. They called him D’Angelo, a very restless six-year-old boy and at
first sight his disability was notable; but that didn't worry his parents at
all, who mentioned it openly to everyone who approached to greet

38
 White Balloon

them. Both Chava and Lolita were very proud of their children Sharon
and D’Angelo. That was the first time I had met the whole family.

Every Thursday we had a “Seedbed of Talents” training session

and I met Chava through there. After the session as we walked from
the training room to my office, we talked about his family but
especially D’Angelo. In one of those conversations, he told me that for
the end of the school year they were going to do a Caterpillars contest.
According to his explanation about the game, a tube costume is made
with some material and a child wears it. The contest is that there is a
finish line where all the caterpillars have to crawl at full speed until
they reach a end, and the first one to cross the line is the winner.
Chava was worried because his son was very excited about the contest
and although his classmates loved him very much, the idea that
D’Angelo’s limitations would be exposed and would end finish losing
the race. Chava was a good father, but feared the risk of his son being
bullied by participating in the contest.

He believed that everything they had worked on for D’Angelo’s

development would end up being a waste just by thinking about the
situation that his son would be made fun of when he reached the finish
line. Needless to say, he wasn't very excited.

I called Linda, a person who had worked with me for many years,
and I asked her to listen to Chava's concern. Looking at some
possibilities, we decided to make the Caterpillar costume out of
synthetic grass, with lots of pictures of colorful animals, so he would
have a unique, and original Caterpillar costume that would attract all
the children’s attention so that they would be excited to see him. With
this distractor, the caterpillar-like child, D’Angelo, would not feel
pressured to arrive first. Additionally, Linda and I were going to give
them the Caterpillar costume.

A couple of weeks later when Chava showed us the video of the

contest, I saw how happy D'Angelo was, who, in actuality, won the
race even though he was considerably slower compared to his
classmates. What I could see in the video was everyone cheering him

39
White Balloon

on and showing their support for him. Some children excitedly pointed
out that his caterpillar costume looked like armor that had become part
of D'Angelo. When the video ended, I looked over to Chava who was
beaming with pride for his son who didn't fit in. That event made us
become very close to the family.

Yvonne had already told me that she wanted to be involved in the

White Balloon project, now we needed to speak to Dulce Pinzon. I was
a little nervous, because it was the second item on the meeting’s
agenda and I had to convince everyone according to Memo's
recommendation; but I was also nervous because I had already seen on
the internet that she was a big deal in the photography world. One of
her most notable works was a photographic series that empowered the
Latino community in the United States. She was highly awarded and
recognized for it. So, I was about to talk to a superstar about
photography in Mexico. When I hung up after speaking with her for
about twenty minutes, all I could say was: "Wow, she is the real deal!"

With Dulce we clicked immediately, she was working on a new

photographic series at the former National History Museum of Puebla,
known today as Imagina Interactive Museum. I asked her if she had no
problem if the model was a child with downs syndrome. I wanted my
friend D’Angelo to be part of the White Balloon project, it was my
personal contribution to the project, he was also starting to grow on
me.

When we arrived at the Museum, Dulce's assistant received us and

took us to a space that made everyone feel as though they were in a
fairy tale. The former Natural History Museum had a section closed to
the public where the old dioramas were. The dioramas were scale
replicas of environments, ecosystems, inhabitants (plants, animals,
human beings), and it is a direct shot through the heart and we were
within reach of a myriad of life-sized animals - there were bears, lions,
foxes, everything you could imagine. The experience was incredible.
We were able to take pictures with all the animals we wanted.
D’Angelo asked: "Are we in Narnia?"

40
 White Balloon

In the beginning it was very overwhelming and surprising and I

could even see a couple of times when D’Angelo was a little scared to
see the huge bears and the lions so close. But little by little he was able
to gain confidence and eventually began running from diorama to
diorama, playing happily with all the dissected animals that were there.
The whole photo session was full of emotions because D´Angelo was
enjoying jumping from world to world and each of the different
representations of climate, flora and fauna. Dulce is an exceptional
photographer and has been a part of many different social causes in
Mexico and New York, in addition to that, she is very in tune as a
mother and as an artist, she manages to reflect in her work a true
human image. The setting of the diorama she chose was a forest,
which ended up being an enchanted forest with the presence of our
little model and friend D´Angelo, which took a lot of work getting him
to turn to the camera. Everyone who was there except for the
photographer, had to make countless faces and gestures, even Salvador
and I got a wrestler mask each to direct his attention. In the end, when
our beloved photographer was satisfied with the result, we said
goodbye and returned to Mexico City, but not before stopping to enjoy
some hamburgers that I could see my little friend loved. For the rest of
the trip back he fell deep asleep, so much emotion and fun made him
exhausted.

Over the next several years Dulce would become a good friend
and we would continue doing projects, such as the photo in Mexico
City’s Chinatown with an armless painter, a magical photo full of
mysticism that would end up being part of an inclusion campaign
social called "Disability is not contagious, discrimination is", directed
by T2S1, Adecco, Gerry Calderón and Fidel Pérez de León.
In October of 2019, she came to Mexico City and we went for
dinner at La Única de Polanco, a place I knew thanks to my friend
Fratello, who whenever he came to town from Miami would meet us
there. At dinner, we were also joined by photographer Lalito Glz. We
were discussing about which restaurant in the city had the best
“escamoles” (ant larvae), because in La Unica they were served on

41
White Balloon

two bone marrows. Personally, they are very good, but Dulce said that
she preferred “epazote” more than ant larvae. When the coffee arrived,
we were talking about redoing the White Balloon project and she
asked me about our little model friend, I told her that I had received
Chava's call three weeks before to tell me that D'Angelo had passed
away, he had just turned 14.

42
 White Balloon

VIII. WAL2KA

Having a friend isn’t something everyone can boast about

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

W
hen the bartender gave me the glass I was staring my
drink. As a joke I asked him to serve me in an old fashion
with two little ice cubes and a lemon twist, because,
instead of vodka, I would drink a mineral water. A year had not yet
passed since I had stopped drinking alcohol due to my medical
prescription. I was an alcoholic, therefore, this process has been very
difficult for me, other than Wal2ka, El Charrito and I kept going out
almost every day to have fun as always, but now I couldn't drink.

I stayed at the bar for a while because I was a little tired from
dancing. That party was spectacular; we were all dressed in black
except for the birthday boy who dressed in gold. "El Negrito" was a
unique human being, he had a permanent tan and his pristine white TV
commercial smile. That night he looked like a character from a
Quentin Tarantino movie. He was a good friend of Wal2ka’s and that's
why we were invited to be part of that celebration. I was watching
Wal2ka dance away and have fun as only he knew how to do, I was
happy to see him happy. Nanda, Alondrita, Pepe and Alex were with
him singing a song by the German band Alphaville.
Forever young
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever?

43
White Balloon

Without realizing it, Santiago was next to me; he was an old

acquaintance. He told me: "That guy has you hypnotized; those cat
eyes could also direct them to other people." I laughed a little and
without taking my eyes off my blond friend who kept spinning on the
dance floor, I replied: "If you really knew who Wal2ka is, you
wouldn't stop looking at him either."
That blonde guy with an everlasting baby face, besides being an
excellent DJ and life of the party, had a very agile mind. Those who
knew him can assure, there was no one who could joke as well as he
did, but he could also joke around in perfect English, French or
German, since he was a polyglot. He only communicated with his
parents in English. Ana and Johann once told me that they had lived
eight years in McAllen, Texas. Wal2ka was very reserved about his
past. When we were closer friends, he showed me a diploma that he
was given for academic excellence signed by President Jimmy Carter
in 1980. There it was undeniable that they had lived in the United
States. Once a psychologist friend gave him a psychometric test and
his IQ turned out to be 131. That's why it so strange that someone so
intelligent couldn't have controls over their own depression.

Johann was a German who looked like a scientist out of a

superhero comic. He was a very white man with blue eyes, tall, with a
strong physical structure similar to that of the Vikings, good-natured
and friendly personality, and worked as a software designer. Every
time we were invited to eat at his home in Mexico City, we knew it
was to show us his latest project. I studied administrative informatics
and Wal2ka was passionate about technological gadgets, so the three
of us could spend hours talking about our projects. They both got
along very well and those issues united them a lot, that's why Wal2ka
was originally left out of the loop when Johann died of a heart attack
while he and Ana were at his home in Miami. We never imagined that
this would be his end. When we saw him, we told him that he was

44
 White Balloon

going to bury us all because of his physical strength, but that was not
the case. He was such a great guy.

Ana’s father was American and mother Galician. She was very
kind and told the best jokes because she was very talkative. She loved
to read, she could talk to you about everything, but if she got hold of
the microphone, forget it, she would never let go. She could spend
hours telling jokes and talking about a thousand different things. It was
like living in luxury for me when I went to see them. When Johann
died, Ana became indifferent and withdrawn. Wal2ka flew to Miami
constantly to be close to her, he was always a good son, he never
neglected his obligations and although they did not need him, every
month without fail he deposited them a considerable amount of money
for the maintenance of their house. After the wake, I never heard from
Ana again.

During the 20 years that our friendship lasted, we never separated.

They practically lived with me. On the three occasions, I moved out of
the apartment I had to find a flat with two rooms because one of them,
by default would be for Wal2ka. He had his own apartment but he
spent most of his time at my house. I had no problem seeing him every
day because we had a lot of fun together.

In my family there were no cases of depression. Pily said: "In bad

times, put on a happy face,” because she was very strong. She was
orphaned at age 9, and did not allow sadness to reign in the house. So
when I had to live through Wal2ka's first case of depression, I did not
know what to do. I never thought that there were people who could fall
into the depths of sadness from one day to another. I had been taught
since I was a child that everyday life gives you a new opportunity and
that is why you have to wake up happy. What had happened to my
friend was really strange and I did not understand.

In my despair, when Wal2ka fell into his last depression, I

remember telling him: “Let's see, bastard, if life gives you the
opportunity to choose two paths, the first one takes you along a path
where there are dry branches, mud and darkness, that is equivalent to

45
White Balloon

your current depression, but there is also an alternate path full of

flowers and colors, that is equivalent to all of us, the people who love
you, why do you choose the difficult path? Why, Walter?”

It had been a week since Wal2ka died and I had to give the news
to my parents. They loved him like a son. I asked them on Saturday to
come and eat at my house, and when they arrived they surprised by
showing up with Tita and Toño, my brother. I was very happy to see
them. My dad was in charge of preparing the food. He would treat us
with some Mexican steaks. When we were all in the kitchen taking
things out of the grocery bags, they asked me if Mau and Wal2ka
would be there too. Just then I broke the news to them that a tragedy
had happened, and remembering Johann's death, I told them that last
week Walter had had a heart attack. Everyone froze. My dad asked
Pily for an onion, washed it, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, put the
onion on a chopping board and for the first time I saw him cry. I didn't
remember ever seeing him cry. Tita and Toño approached him and
hugged him; meanwhile the Pily was pulling me towards my bedroom,
just being there, her watching me with her big green eyes and looking
at me as if she had guns for eyes asked me: “I don't buy. Right now,
you are going to tell me what really happened with Walter…”

46
White Balloon

47
White Balloon

IX. KITTY

“No soy extraño, simplemente, no soy normal”

(I’m not strange, I’m just not normal)

Salvador Dalí

T
he last names on the list of photographers of the White Balloon
project, I saw that there was a person who I had met not long
ago at a party. Her name was Kitty and fate had put me back
on the right path. The night I saw her for the first time I was at a
gathering in a house in Las Lomas de Chapultepec. The atmosphere
that night was thanks to good music and reminded me of the songs that
DJ Wal2ka brought to life in those parties we made in our Cuauhtemoc
apartment. It was almost as if I was listening to him again with his
eclectic mixes and I would tell my friends how great the music was.
One of them replied that the DJ was her lifelong friend, Kitty.

As the night went on, we had a blast. Kitty decided to rest for a
moment and left a playlist with songs from the eighties playing. He
began to talk in a small group near where the DJ console was, and
after a while, she approached our group as we sang a Queen song that
was like a hymn for our generation.

Don’t stop me now,

‘Cause I’m having a good time,
Don’t stop me now,

48
 White Balloon

Yes, I’m having a good time,

There, I had the opportunity to be introduced to her. All I can say

is that I found an extraordinary woman with incredible energy. While I
listened to her talk with the rest of my friends, the entire time all I
heard her say was: "Love, love, love." She didn’t seem to know any
other word, she used it for everything. Love is her way of introducing
herself to you. That's how I met her.

With that, I got down to work and began making phone calls.
When it was time to talk to Kitty, I started the conversation by
reminding her of that party we had met at a few years ago, and then I
made a brief summary of the project. She was liked the idea, and I
knew Nanda perfectly. Without thinking, she agreed to be a part of the
project, but before hanging up she paused and with her unique way of
generating positive energy, told me: "This project will give us many
satisfactions." With those words in the plural sense, I felt that I was
aligning myself and the project. I loved adding her to it.
The whole photography process was super easy with Kitty. When
we met at a restaurant in Avenida de Las Palmas for breakfast, she
explained to me in detail the image she expected to give me for the
project. The only thing she needed was to get a helipad, but she had a
friend in mind she could ask whom she knew perfect. When she told
me her friend's name, it turned out to be no one other than Picco, one
of my best and most endearing friends. I told Kitty that by chance, he
was with me the night Wal2ka died, so everything was naturally
falling into place.

A few days later she visited the foundation to meet the students
with disabilities that we were inviting to participate in the photo
session in the heights of a helipad. With her personality she won over
everyone in the institution, from the teachers to the kids themselves.
After being with them for a couple of hours, Kitty decided on 4
participants, who were delighted to be photographed by our beloved
artist. I was surprised how easy she was to adapt to any situation, she
49
White Balloon

moved so naturally that she looked like a fish in the water, so much so
that no one had imagined it was the first time she had visited that
institution. During the session, Kitty called me on the phone and tell
me about her experience.

The children arrived at that helipad, located on a building opposite

the Coca-Cola Export and the Canadian Embassy. In that place close
to the sky, the four children accompanied by their tutors enjoyed a
photo shoot in such a place from where you could appreciate a truly
beautiful part of Mexico City. The view was truly amazing and there
the four were, between playing games and having fun with magic, and
Kitty managed to take a picture full of harmony and happiness.
Everything was in alignment for us that day: the sensitive
photographer, the weather, the wind, the joy of the children and
especially their enthusiasm to participate in such a unique photograph.
When I saw the final image, I loved how it reflected its originality.

A couple of weeks later I would be talking on the phone with

Kitty to inform her that the White Balloon project had been canceled
and confess that I had no idea of what to do with the photographs. I
also told her that, during those days while working on the project, I
had an idea that I would like to throw at her but I needed her advice, so
we had breakfast fifteen days later to discuss it.
Our meeting took place on a Saturday; it was a very cold day. I
was joined by Mau and the first thing we asked for was a place as far
from the entrance of the restaurant and little by little we climatized. I
have always been on the cold side since I was a child. When we were
ordering our coffee, I saw Kitty arrive looking like a magical character
from a Harry Potter novel. We hugged; she greeted Mau, and sat next
to me. When they brought her chamomile tea, I began telling the
whole story in great detail, from Wal2ka's death until I leaving the
restaurant with 21 photographs not knowing what to do with them.
She just listened, smiled and said: "Love, that's life, learn from what
happened and be ready to something else." Her words were so simple

50
 White Balloon

and clear that in that moment I accepted that the White Balloon project
had only been a life experience.

I talked to her about my new project. I explained what I had

experienced during those weeks, collaborating with the institution and
thanks to the communication with the parents of the children with
disabilities; I noticed a problem they all had in common. What they
needed most was information on how to guide and educate their
children, but they worried that there were few web page options
specializing in disability. They needed to keep up with social,
scientific and medical advances. So, my new project was to create a
website that was the equivalent of an online newspaper where there
would be valuable news and information related to vulnerable groups.
I would select the information and publish it by grouping it by themes
or by types of disability. In addition to that, I would take advantage of
the space to also talk about values, family, depression and alternative
medicine, for example, the medicinal use of marijuana.

She pondered a little, made a couple of comments that I should be

careful, disability and alternative medicine were still taboo subjects in
Mexico. She told me that when she was planning her photo session
with children with disabilities, she had looked for up-to-date
information on cerebral palsy but what she found were articles mostly
in English. My idea was not bad, could serve as an information tool
not only for parents or relatives of people with disabilities, but it could
also serve as a resource for students or anyone who wanted to get
involved in the world of disabilities.

I listened in detail to all her proposals on how to make the page

attractive. She talked to me about an article she had read in TIME
magazine that talked about the importance of social networks to
promote this type of pages. So far everything was going well, but I
needed the most important thing, a name for the project and buy the
domain. I gave her several options, but none convinced her, until her
eyes lit up and he said, “Your web page is going to be called: “Todos
Somos Uno” (T2S1).

51
White Balloon

52
 White Balloon

PART TWO

“The truth is incontrovertible, malice may attack it, and ignorance

may deride it,
But in the end, there it is”.

Winston Churchill.

53
White Balloon

54
 White Balloon

X. THE CRUISE

“Never mistreat the other’s puppy; look at him like a son of your father, who,
although small and clumsy, it is very possible that he might have a bear as a
mother”

The Jungle Book – Rudyard Kipling,

W
al2ka had been very happy the last several days,
everything was going well. That year he finished paying
for his apartment, he had plans to sell it and buy a larger
one. He was very happy at his job. In addition to that, he was very
excited to go on a cruise with a group of friends who wanted to share
the experience of crossing the pond. We were all willing to get on a
boat with five thousand other passengers and have fun especially on a
ship that has a flag related to happiness, but also to excesses.

When we arrived in Athens, the cradle of the great thinkers of

history, everything was going very well. Little by little the members of
the group arrived, almost everyone Wal2ka considered a close friend.
He was known by the majority of those present that he had suffered
from constant depression and that he was coming out of a very
difficult situation for the death of his dad.

The entire group was made up of twenty people. There was a little
of everyone, friends he had known for many years and some that he
did not know for as long. Everything was going perfectly until we
boarded the ship and three of them wanted to impose some absurd
rules, like no taking pictures while on the trip.

The situation immediately became hostile when those three guys,

accustomed to being pampered by their employees, believing (with no
humility) that those present were part of their payroll. That gave us the
55
White Balloon

indication that, under no circumstance, could there be any

photographs, something which for me was even, in a sense, funny and
very ridiculous. By understanding what the rest of the trip would be
like, I avoided being in the same places as them. For me it was very
easy, the ship had thirteen floors and many fun options, but for Wal2ka
it was not the same. In order to live with his friends, he had to stay
close to the group, something that was obviously going to end very
badly.

When we stepped landed in Tel Aviv, we went to the Holocaust

museum in a van rented by the group. Some made several jokes out
about the place because Wal2ka was of German descent, but he didn’t
pay attention to them. We got back on the van to Jerusalem and during
the trip there were more negative comments that caught my attention
because they were not so nice to my dear friend.
Upon returning to the ship I met another group of Mexicans,
whom I more or less knew well, they were from Tijuana, and for peace
of mind and mental health, I preferred to spend more time with them.
They say that bulls look better from the barrier and that saying was
definitely true in this case. For the first five days, I kept my distance
from the original group but very close to Wal2ka. I saw him happy,
somewhat puzzled by the change in attitude of our friends, but in
general happy. He was still very excited about his future and still felt
that this trip had been a great decision. He was like a child with a new
toy.
On the sixth day, I was in one of the casinos playing when they
found me to inform me that Wal2ka had a confrontation. According to
the many different versions, the problem arose because he took a
picture where the “three incognito navigators” were and an entire
argument erupted because of a photograph. Some of the group took
sides against Wal2ka, as if they had been chosen to be part of the holy
inquisition to judge him in a cowardly and irresponsible way,
especially because they were being very hard on a person who suffered
from ups and downs in his mood. Most of the group knew that Wal2ka

56
 White Balloon

had been hospitalized for a depression as a result of his father's death,

and regardless of their friend's mental history, they were put him down
and attacked him the remaining three days of the trip.

Years later, in 2019, I saw in the theatre The Story of Arthur

Fleck, a failed comedian who had mental problems similar to
Wal2ka’s. In two crucial parts of the film, it showed how Arthur, the
clown, suffered from bullying, mainly by people who only valued
themselves by being in a group to trample on the weakest. When I saw
Joaquin Phoenix masterfully interpreting this DC Comics character, I
returned to that moment on the cruise when a few cowards
unreasonably teamed up to attack my friend. None of them would have
been able to confront him individually, since, like Arthur Fleck,
Wal2ka's comments could be very hard and accurate, his sarcastic
responses were very sophisticated, and he had such an agile mind that
few could understand him.

It was the seventh day at sea and there were still two more days to
go, when I noticed the unfriendly behavior of some members of the
group towards Wal2ka. I decided to get him away from them and
introduce him to the other Mexicans and so we continued our journey,
distancing ourselves among the other five thousand tourists who were
enjoying the same cruise.
The last day we watched as they set the stage for the final party to
close out the cruise. Everything was geared up for it to be a spectacular
party in the main pool of the ship. At one point, a white helium filled
balloon escaped from the hand of one of the organizers and we
watched it fly off into the sky. At that time, Wal2ka told me that
helium balloons rarely fly up to the sky, often traveling more
horizontal than vertical distances. While we appreciated how it flew
and got lost in the clouds, he said: "I would like to be that white
balloon, to get away from everything and get lost on the horizon."

We met up with the rest of the group once we were back on shore.
We cordially spent a few minutes together, but in that moment, we
bought a flight to Barcelona and changed plans to continue on our

57
White Balloon

own. The bullying Wal2ka was irresponsibly exposed to by his own

friendships caused him to again fall into a withering depression that
would last almost a year. Some would probably say that his reaction
was over-exaggerated and that he overreacted. What I do know is that
Wal2ka was greatly affected by the indifference of his friends. This is
how the mind of people suffering from depression works and all the
illusions he had about his future when he boarded that ship for those
moments had vanished.

58
 White Balloon

XI. THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE

CRADLE

“The important thing isn’t what they’ve done about us, but what we do with
what they’ve done about us”.

Jean Paul Sartre.

W
hen I returned to the apartment after having breakfast with
Kitty, the first thing I did was buy the online domain
todossomosuno.com.mx. Later I called a web designer
who had been recommended to me, he was a Brazilian named Tiago.
When we hung up, we had reached an agreement and from that
moment, I began working on this new project. Now the advantage
would be that all the important decisions, the results and the direction I
was going to take this would depend solely on me.
https://todossomosuno.com.mx/portal/

It had been just over a year since I returned from that breakfast
with Kitty, and we had started the project: "T2S1". That afternoon I
had an appointment with a collaborator close to the Secretary of State,
and I had a good feeling about it.

When I arrived to the appointment, I was received by a very nice,

young, good-natured man named Iván. I felt very motivated. I told him
about my website and that it was the equivalent of a virtual newspaper.
By that time the website had 1,100 articles on the different disabilities
that existed. Also, the social networks we were doing well; on
Facebook we already had 200,000 followers and I took the opportunity

59
White Balloon

to tell him that there was also a photographic series with 21 images
called The White Balloon. I clarified that all my projects were focused
on the inclusion of people with disabilities.

A few days after meeting with Iván, they called me from the
office to inform me that they would receive some advisors to talk
about my project. Upon arriving to the building, that seemed to be
standing just because of God’s will, I met three executives to whom I
presented the photo series The White Balloon. I told them about the
website and also our social networks where they could inform our
followers about the things they were doing to help people with
disabilities. They were very kind and explained that the Secretary of
Health was a very sensitive person when it came to those issues,
mainly because he was a tireless fighter when it came to those
vulnerable groups. We agreed that they would talk with him about my
project and then call to inform me what would happen next.

This would mark the beginning of several new projects that we

would do together, but most important, they had seen a high potential
in showing the images The White Balloon.

Fidel, who was a very important leader of people with disabilities,

joined the team of advisors. Following a car accident, Fidel had to
move around in a wheelchair, and thanks to his work, finally the White
Balloon photos were going to be exhibited in different pediatric
hospitals in the city and on permanent display in the main institution of
disabilities in Mexico City. In addition, the series was also in several
mass collective exhibition vents that would take place in the Zocalo,
Chapultepec Forest, and the Monument to the Revolution, among
other public squares. For five months they were exposed in an
important hospital located in Av. Gabriel Mancera.

We also jointly carried out a campaign on the social and labor

inclusion of people with disabilities. We invited Alvaro, Fede and
Dulce who had already participated in the White Balloon project, so
that they would be responsible for making six new images that would
become the face of the entire campaign. Each one would be published

60
 White Balloon

for 15 days in the main areas of transport, including the city subway
stations. When the campaigns ended, according to their official
statistics, each was seen by approximately two million people daily.

Three was a launch party for the first photograph that would make
up this unique social campaign where all the models were people with
disabilities. It was a press event held at in one of the main
contemporary art museums of the city. During that event, we also took
the opportunity to display the photos of the White Balloon. We were
able to throw that party thanks to the owner of the museum who also
owned the company I worked at. He generously lent me the space, and
I have a very special affection towards him because he was attentive
when I was admitted for pancreatitis and when Wal2ka had died.

Pily said that people “should not make firewood from a fallen
tree,” and after thinking about those words, I was very careful that my
name did not appear in any of the projects. In these events I am like a
ghost and there is no reference to my presence. It could be said that I
am only: the hand that rocks the cradle.

61
White Balloon

XII. PLAYA DEL CARMEN

“In pain there is as much wisdom as in pleasure; both are the two
conservative forces of the species”.

Frederick Nietzsche

W
e were watching how the moon reflected off the sea in
Cozumel. We were on the terrace of the apartment of one
of my best friends, Andy a spectacular Uruguayan. Not
only was she beautiful on the outside, but she also had a big heart and
a way of thinking that had become part of me. She had taught me how
to handle energy in a positive way.

Our group was made up of Mau, Andy, Moncho and I, the

children had already gone to sleep. Just as Mau and Moncho went to
serve some drinks, we talked about how some events can change us as
human beings, especially painful events that mark a before and after. I
gave an example of that event that genre in me a unique love of life.

The room number five of the hotel El Deseo was my favorite, and
for the number of times I had stayed there the employees told me as a
joke that they would name it after me. The hotel was located in a ritzy
area on Fifth Avenue, the busiest street in the town because the best
clubs in Playa del Carmen were there: La Santanera, Coco-Bongo, El
Diablito and Blue Parrot.

I knew that room from head to toe and I loved its private terrace. I
spent hours every day lying in the hammock that hung from end to
end. I was usually there smoking a joint and drinking my traditional

62
 White Balloon

vodka on the rocks (my favorite drink) focusing on thinking about the
little things in life. But that day was different, while lying in the
hammock I began to feel a pain in my abdomen. I felt it little above
my stomach. It was a very strange discomforting feeling, something
different, an intermittent pain that was going to for sure return with
greater intensity.

The day before had been too much. We drank as if we were true
Polish Cossacks. I do not remember drinking as much as that day, it
was a night of excesses and I am aware that I had rarely behaved as
badly as I had that night. But for me there were no limits when it came
to the party.

When I left suite number five, it was about 11:00 in the morning
and I had a big hangover. In addition to that, I felt that strange pain in
my abdomen. When I finally reached the pool, which was only about
twenty steps from the room, I sat down and took a deep breath, I
started feeling worse every second.

The pain was no longer intermittent, but it was becoming

permanent and at that moment I heard a voice that said: “Hey rich boy,
have a Clamato with vodka that will help cure that hangover.” It was
Charrito inside the pool enjoying a Pacifico beer. Wal2ka as beside
him with a big beer in his hand, both joking about what happened the
previous night while dancing inside the pool to Madonna’s Vogue.

Both of them already had glazed eyes from all the drinks they had
been having all morning. Both laughed at how badly I looked. I
preferred to ignore them and asked Hugo, the bartender, to prepare a
hangover serum with mineral water, lime and salt as I lay on a cot
waiting for that abdominal pain to fade away a little by little.

I fell asleep for a couple of hours and when I woke up, I was
surrounded by a group of friends who were already planning where we
were going to dance that night. Gaby Asín one of my best friends said:
"You look very bad." I began to feel the pain again, but now with an
almost unbearable intensity. I got up from the cot while the rest of the

63
White Balloon

group made jokes about my hangover. I went into the room, grabbed
my wallet and went out to get a taxi to take me to the closest hospital. I
could not stand the pain any longer and it was clear that my friends
thought that my discomfort was due to an extreme hangover.

The taxi driver took me to a hospital that was of a business group

of Spanish origin. When we arrived, a stretcher took me to the
emergency room, and immediately a doctor gave me an ultrasound.
While he was checking the place where it hurt, it made it very clear
that I had arrived just in time. I was told I had pancreatitis and to keep
calm because the pain it would only increase until it became
unbearable, which had to be very strong because the worst was yet to
come.

The first time I visited Playa del Carmen, was thanks to

Alexandro, who, besides being my friend, had casually studied with
Wal2ka at Ibero University. Alex worked as general manager of the El
Deseo Hotel. I did not previously know that part of the Riviera Maya,
it was a true paradise, it had a tourist vibe that catered for all tastes.
Passers-by who walked carelessly between the shops, bars and
restaurants of Fifth Avenue were mostly nice hippies, which gave the
atmosphere a magical charm.
I fell in lover with the atmosphere from the first moment, to such
an extent that I set out to visit that heavenly place every four months.
But over the years I got to be on those beaches every fifteen days.
Many of my acquaintances came to believe that I lived near the town
because of my frequent trips, but it was not like that. I lived in Mexico
City, a two-hour plane ride plus another hour by car.

Over time, Alex introduced me to all his acquaintances, which

gradually led me to create a large group of friends who lived there or
in Cozumel. During the 7 consecutive years of my trips to Playa del
Carmen, I went at least 60 times, so I became part of the community.

I was hospitalized for fifteen days. The first days had been hell,
the pain was at such a level of intensity that neither Valium nor

64
 White Balloon

morphine could control it. The nurses took very good care of me, but
there was one in particular that talked a lot with me, she encouraged
me not to give up. In addition, she was in control of the visitors who
were able to see me every day.

Among the people who came to see me there were the waiters of
my favorite clubs to the son of a former president of Mexico who was
traveling with Inzun, Alex, Moncho and Sonia during the trip. By that
time, I knew many people in Playa del Carmen, the presence of my
friends motivated me morally to endure that permanent pain that
seemed to have no end.

Wal2ka and El Charrito had to go back to Mexico City. They had

to work and couldn't extend their vacation days anymore. They went to
say goodbye wishing me the best to get out of there. I knew it was
going to be quiet because during the first days that I had been admitted
to the hospital, my friends who lived in town were aware of my state
of health and had not left me alone.

The day the pain was more intense in my abdomen, I saw the
doctor with a worried look. He told me that they could not move me to
Cancun because my state of health was very delicate. He told me that
if I wanted to write something for my family, he could gladly bring me
a pen and a sheet. That moment was very hard for me, because I hadn't
said anything to my parents so they would not worry. Now I regretted
that decision, because they thought I was still in Playa del Carmen on
vacation.

My pancreas was so inflamed that it made me look like I was

pregnant, there was even a risk of peritonitis. The doctor was honest
and told me to be prepared because there were many chances that I
would have to go to the operating room that night. The hours passed
and the pain was unbearable.

When the doctor returned, he told me to try to rest, at the moment

there was nothing they could do. I closed my eyes and little by little
my whole life was flashing in front of me. For the first time in all those

65
White Balloon

days, I relaxed and let go, to such a degree that I felt a sharp pain that
shoot through my whole body like a great electric shock. Around me I
heard a lot of movement from the nurses and then I felt a great rest, an
inner peace and I no longer knew about myself.

When I woke up the next day, I felt better and as the days went by
my body reacted positively. Five days later, I left the hospital, but I
could not return to Mexico City because I had to go to the hospital
every day to see the doctor. When I left the hospital and returned to El
Deseo, some of the employees received me as if I had returned from
war. Despite everything I went through I had lost ten kilos, but I was
fine, I left that hospital on my own feet, the only indication of the
doctor was that I could never drink alcohol again in my life. For me,
an alcoholic, that was another challenge I had to overcome. I could
never drink a single drop of alcohol again.
That same night I left the hospital, I was picked up at the hotel by
Inzun and Alex to go for dinner. While I was in the hospital, they
didn't allow me to eat any kind of food, I was fasting the entire time,
but now I could eat something light. It was almost midnight when I
asked them to accompany me to celebrate La Santanera. Party and the
nightlife were part of my being. They were very surprised that I
wanted to go out to celebrate.
I explained that my life had to continue and I would have to
overcome that challenge of never drinking alcohol again, if I was
going to face that, I preferred it to be from day one. In addition, I felt
that I had been reborn; when I was discharged the doctor told me that
what had happened to me must have been a miracle. Statistically only
two in ten people survive pancreatitis.

That night I didn't need a reason to go to celebrate, I wanted to

celebrate life and be thankful because I discovered that miracles do
exist.

We entered the Santanera and as if by magic, everything made

sense again. I realized that life had given me another chance. When we

66
 White Balloon

arrived to the dance floor, it was almost as if Gloria Gaynor was

welcoming me in style:

Did you think I’d lay down and die?

Oh, no, not I
I will survive

67
White Balloon

68
 White Balloon

XIII. ILLY

“Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future”.

Oscar Wilde

M
y friend Fabi invited me to a party in Lomas Virreyes. It
was a farewell party for one of his university classmates
who was going to live in Europe for a couple of years. She
studied at the Faculty of Philosophy at UNAM. It’s well known some
of those who study that career there, are people of a high social and
economic level, and the party reflected that. Attendees were mostly
well-dressed hippies. The house was small, and as Fabi told me, was
owned by his classmate's grandmother, but since they were selling it, it
was semi unoccupied. It almost looked like a scene from the 1925
novel The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

From upon arriving, we were greeted with a pot brownie and a

small plastic glass with tequila jello shots. It was 1992, and as in most
parties, rock was the music of choice, but at this party it was a more
eclectic mix. The music was in English, French and Spanish, but the
combination of genres and styles made it very fun. With the good
music, the brownie that was taking its effect, the environment where I
could distinguish between the people and the atmosphere, made me
naturally move to the rhythm of Bob Marley.
No, woman, no cry,
No, woman, no cry,

It was about three in the morning, and by that time I didn't know
how many people had entered and left the party. Some I knew had

69
White Balloon

already gone to Rock Stock, Magic Circus, News or the newly opened
Bulldog Café, but the everyone continued dancing and the music was
still going strong. The DJ seemed to go on forever, he didn't stop, and
the energy coming from that blond gringo-looking DJ caught my eye.
When I asked the guests about him, they told me that he was a German
guy who studied at the Ibero, but, as long as he played their music, he
could play the parties for free. His name was Walter, but his stage
name was Wal2ka.

Although I was invited by someone else, I knew many of the

attendees because of my ease of conversing with other people, which I
did very well during our frequent drunk parties that my friend Sahid
"The Penguin" and I used to throw in the Magic Circus - one of the
best nightclubs in Mexico City from 1982 to 1994. My drunkenness
during those years was thanks to the Penguin, Mony and Diana, as
well as open access to that super club where I met many people.
During that time, I was 20, living alone, studying full-time and was
self-sufficient working for the French yogurt company Danone.

It was five o'clock in the morning and the second brownie that I
had eaten started hitting me, but I did not feel alright to drive yet, so I
decided to take a tour of the palace where I could find several small
groups of people scattered around the house.
I joined a group that was talking about horror stories that
supposedly happened in the house. One of them asked me if I believed
in those stories, I briefly told him that my mother read tarot cards and I
did believe in that and more. We started talking about tarot. He was
about twelve years older than I, and his face was not normal. He
looked like an exotic vampire; he had a sharp nose, pale white skin,
piercing green eyes with dark circles under them as if he were a direct
descendant of Arabs. Later I found out he was of Irish and Spanish
descent. He was very proud to be directly related to the Celts. He
introduced himself to me, Jaime, but preferred "Illy."

We continued the party at his place and it lasted two more days.
From that moment on we became great friends; for a year we were

70
 White Balloon

closer than I had ever been with anyone before. He taught me about a
world that I didn't know existed. He knew Mexico City’s real
underground. During that time, all the beliefs that I had about drugs,
sex, nightlife, art, music, the occult and everything, were transformed;
I broke many paradigms, it was a year of experimenting to the edge
and learning

According to the polarity principle mentioned in The Kybalion,

“Everything is double, everything has two poles; everything, its pair of
opposites: the similar and the antagonistic are the same; the opposites
are identical in nature, but different in degree; the ends touch; all truths
are half-truths, all paradoxes can be reconciled.”

That's why Illy and I were opposed in many things, but in the end,
we were identical in the sense that it made us be very intense during
that year of excesses and complicit. For physical and mental health
reasons, I needed to make an immediate change in my lifestyle. As for
Illy, his changing personality was like the song " El diablo en el
cuerpo", a musical success of the 80's that Illy sang with his Punk band
called "Size", along with Carlos Robledo and Walter Schmidt.

The Saturday after I stopped seeing Illy, my job sent me to pick

up an expat named Michelle, who was from France and would be
staying in Mexico for two years. Among my duties as Head of Human
Resources, I was responsible for welcoming him and tell him about
where he would be staying and would be able to change if he wanted.
He was booked at the Four Seasons, a luxury hotel located on Paseo de
la Reforma, near Chapultepec Forest. When I arrived to the reception,
it was none other than Walter or Wal2ka, the German DJ who had
played the party where I met Illy. I told him that I heard him a year
ago at a party, and his mixes were great. My comment landed
perfectly. He explained that the Ibero had sent him to do his
professional practices at the hotel, but was about to leave, so I
suggested that while he finished, I wait for him at the hotel bar where I
enjoyed a vodka on the rocks. When he finished, met me and then

71
White Balloon

invited me for drinks in the Condesa. From that moment, we were

inseparable, not even for a single day, lasting the next two decades.

Illy never got on well with Wal2ka. They just couldn't stand each
other, there was no chemistry between them. According to him they
were completely opposite, but they had more things in common than
not. Both loved the same music, they had no limit when it came to
partying, they were descendants of European parents, they were
extremely creative and sarcastic, they suffered the same mood swings,
and both suffered from depression. I have always believed that people
who are very intelligent are more susceptible to depression.
Despite everything, the only person I could turn to when Wal2ka
started to suffer from depression was Illy. He was always willing to
help me understand the situation and helped me pull Wal2ka out of
multiple crises - at least ten times if not more.

Illy and I were close, even though in the 18 years that our
friendship lasted, we only met in person a few times. According to
him, my "cat-lizard eyes" made him feel bad and preferred that we
communicate by phone.

When we returned from the cruise, I decided to call Illy. I needed

it talk to him to see how I could handle this situation that I already felt
was getting out of hand. Since it was his own friends on the cruise that
were bullying him, Wal2ka was very depressed. I saw him in a very
bad state and nothing motivated him anymore. I needed to tell Illy
everything. I called him and he answered after the first ring with his
usual elegant voice and way of answering. We agreed to meet in 15
days, and he also wanted to see me because he had something to tell
me.

Days later, on November 5th, 2010, I read horrible news in several

magazines and newspapers such as Chilango, Publimetro, and
Excélsior, but the one I remember most was published in La Jornada,
which read the following:

72
 White Balloon

“The first Mexican who changed the music and culture scene in
Mexico by introducing punk, artistically called Illy B., has been
reported dead this week.” The article that reported Illy B.’s death
read:

The nickname he gave himself was "The first Mexican punk

artist." Many only knew him for his successful and eighties hit "El
Diablo en el cuerpo"
He started earning fame in the underground, where he gained
popularity in Mexico’s electronic music scene and between 1979 and
1984, he led the band Size, which was all but forgotten myth until in
recently revived a few years ago.

But why was Illy already myth, even before he died? Those who
saw him as Size’s front man, (he used to play in Hip 70) cannot deny
his undeniable larger than life personality; future predecessors that
would later dedicate their lives to music, publicity or art, such as
Guillermo Santamarina, Saúl Hernández, Iñaki and Leonardo de
Fobia, Héctor Mijangos (Noiselab), among others, were all influenced
by his dazzling performance, extremely free-wielding and unkempt.
Illy's innate magic was polished by his training under actress, mime
and dancer, Lindsay Kemp, with whom he took classes in the late
1970s in Toronto, Canada. There, he also met David Bowie and Mick
Jones (The Clash), among others”.

After reading that text I knew who Illy really was. It never
occurred to me to investigate my friend’s eccentric background. Now I
finally understood his character better, but on the other hand, I felt
very bad and heart broken when I realized he had not told me what he
was going to tell me at our next meeting.

73
White Balloon

74
 White Balloon

XIV. THE TAROT CARD

“One must abandon oneself to your intuition, we know more than we

believe”

David Lynch

A
t first, tarot cards were used in Europe as a game, it was
similar to poker in the United States. In the early 19th
century, in a few places used them to guess people’s future,
although, later, a pair of French occultists transformed it into the main
method of modern occultism. All my life, I have had concerns about
the energies that are divided into the major and minor arcanas. During
the last three years, I had read an endless number of articles, books and
documents, without any logical meaning or explanation of their origin.
What worried me most was the reason why they are so mystical; many
consider them a key to the unknown or a door to another dimension.

The only thing I could conclude after three years of studying tarot
cards was that they emerged from a part of The Book of the Dead,
which was used as traditional funerary texts that were inscribed on
tomb walls or in sarcophagi dating back to 1550 BC. Tarot cards
remained hidden for many centuries and were part of the original
collection of the Library of Alexandria until it was destroyed by the
Arabs. They ended up in the Italian convents where the monks used
them for fun, for that reason their use was preserved. With the passage
of time, gypsies from around the world would use them to transmit
mystical knowledge and predict futures. In the fifteenth century, it was
discovered that the gypsies originally came from Egypt.

It was clear to me that it is not the same to document, study and

read about tarot cards, as was my case. To possess a true gift to

75
White Balloon

interpret and communicate with them required a skill that few people
were able to acquire. Pily was a true believer of their power and
always tried to teach me their meaning. I was hoping that I would be
able to communicate with them, but not everyone is given that ability.
Only few are given the gift to communicate and know the past, the
present and the future. It is a controversial issue because it falls into
the mysticism of pagan religions that causes Mexicans, who are so
attached to the Catholic religion, to talk about it. It is so taboo that
most of the world simply does not acknowledge their existence.

In my life, I have been surrounded by people who know how to

communicate through tarot cards. The closest to me was my mother
who used the Rider-Waite tarot; she was very exact, and Illy used the
mythical tarot of Dalí. The Spanish artistic character that was always
interested in the occult and in 1970 he created a series of over 70 tarot
cards for esoteric purposes.

When I went to talk to Pily about the White Balloon project, she
decided that she would first give me her advice as a mother and then
she would give me the cards to see what they were saying. She used
several methods to consult them, but chose the method of the Celtic
cross, which is the most well-known and one of the oldest methods
that have been recorded. It is an excellent method because it is suitable
for all types of questions, shows evolutionary trends, serves to clarify
the background of something, to predict and investigate the causes of
things. It is the most widely used circulation system to uncover a
specific issue and my question was very clear:

Should I continue with the photo project for children with

disabilities?

Within the ten drawn cards, there were two that spoke in
particular about the future, therefore, the only cards with divinatory
value are those between positions 6 to 10. All other cards give
additional explanatory clues about the environment and the
background of the asked question. Card number 6 is the first card that
points to the future and provides an immediate perspective of the

76
 White Balloon

future. My circuit opened with the “X. Wheel of fortune" card. At the
level, the Wheel of Fortune card often indicates situations that we have
virtually no chance of influencing, which meant according to Pily's
interpretation, that “the project was going to take an unexpected turn,
something out of your control will happen that will change everything
completely.”

At the end of the circuit, my 10th card was the second of the future
telling cards those points towards long-term perspectives. It indicated
that the maximum point eventually of the subject in question leads.
When Pily turned the card, the last major arcana appeared, the “XXI.
The world" card. Being able to put the beauty of this card into words is
almost impossible, it means that we have found our place, our right
place; it says that we have taken an important step, perhaps a decisive
one, towards our own future. Thus, "The World" card symbolizes
happy times. Pily smiled and said: "It is the most beautiful card that
could have come up. Do not hesitate, that project will change your life
for the better."

We had finished the run of cards and we already had an answer to

my question, I would continue with the White Balloon project.

Something that Pily had said and that I had not overlooked, was
that during my run of the cards, the first and second were the Celtic
cross method, which signifes the origin of the question, the two cards
that appeared were: “XIII. Death” and “0.The Fool".

Three years had passed since Wal2ka's death, and since then, I had
not set foot in Playa del Carmen again. That place brought back many
memories, but I felt prepared to finally face them, so I decided to
escape for a weekend. I arrived at the El Deseo hotel on a Friday
afternoon and stayed in room number five. The first day I was there I
felt turned off, somewhat sad, but by Saturday at noon I was at one
hundred percent again enjoying Mamitas Beach. There, coincidentally,
I met my friend Lalo, "El enano", one of my favorite party buddies
who was also a good friend of Wal2ka. We had a great time. At around

77
White Balloon

six in the afternoon we said goodbye and later met around nine at night
to go for dinner.

When I arrived at the hotel, I had three hours to burn before

meeting up with “El Enano”, so I laid back in the hammock thinking
about life’s little problems, as I did in the good old days.

While laying there, a crazy idea dawned on me to have tarot cards

read. I spoke to the reception and Santiago answered with his distinct
Argentine accent. I asked him if he knew someone who could read my
cards, and he answered no, he did not know anyone in Playa.

It wasn’t long until I had fallen asleep until the telephone rang and
woke me. It was Santiago who had found a person to come and give
me a reading. Her name was Sandra, and she was going to arrive at
eight o'clock. At that time, it was already half past seven, so it only
gave me time to take an express shower and change to receive her.

Sandra was a young woman, who did not look like the famous
gypsies we see on T.V., she was an ordinary looking person. I could
have run into her children that afternoon on the beach without ever
imagining she was a tarot reader. She very cool, greeted me as if we
had always known each other, lit a white candle that I left on the table
in the room, and opened a silk chal. I looked at her cards; she used
Rider-Waite's.

The first thing she asked me after we did the preparation ritual
was: "Why did you call me? What do you want to know?" I replied
that I had searched for her out of curiosity and that I didn't really have
any specific questions to ask her. I clarified that I was a believer in
tarot cards. She herself asked me to ask the tarot the reason why I
needed the cards read to me - it seemed like a good idea.

She separated the major and minor arcana and gave me the 22
cards from the first group which was only the major arcana.

She told me to hit them seven times and when finished I would
pull a single card. I handed it to her, turned it over and put it on the

78
 White Balloon

table. It was the “0. The Fool” card. She stared at me, turned around
and said: “Don’t panic, but you and I are not alone here.” Then the
candle went out.

79
White Balloon

80
 White Balloon

XV. THE FOOL

“Understand me. I am not an ordinary man. I have my madness, I live in

another dimension and I don’t have time for things that have no soul”.

Charles Bukowski.

P
ily told me that when my grandparents died years ago, while
she was at boarding school, it was a very difficult time for her.
On Sundays, she was anxiously awaiting the visit of my uncle
Rodolfo who at just turned 18 years old and became her surrogate
father. It was the best day of the week because she could see her older
brother and that made her happy, she loved him very much.

Among the stories that Pily told us about her childhood, there was
one that particularly interesting to me, the place she was sent to intern
at was the same boarding school where she studied part of her primary
and all of her secondary. That boarding school currently continues to
operate in Mexico City, in Calzada de Guadalupe No. 540. The classes
were half board and full board, but very few girls stayed there every
day of the year, it was usually only those girls who were not able to
leave because their parents or close relatives did not live close and
could only receive them during vacations. That was Pily’s case and
due to the fact that she was in full boarding school, she had the
opportunity to spend more time with the nuns, and especially with a
Spanish nun named Lolita.

We talked about the year 1959, Pily was 9 years old, and Lolita
would have been about 80 years old. She told my mother that at some

81
White Balloon

point in time she arrived to Mexico with another 20,000 Spanish

refugees, and in 1941, thanks to the support of President Lázaro
Cárdenas, many of those refugees were made up of intellectuals,
military, economists, priests, nuns, scientists and opposition leaders,
all linked to the republican government defeated during the Spanish
War. The refugees brought a lot of culture and also old European
customs, traditions and teachings. According to my Mom, Lolita was a
nun with liberal ideals and had an extensive knowledge in occultism.
She was of the Benedictine order had existed in several parts
throughout Europe but mainly in an Italian convent, to be exact, The
Santa Maria del Monte Oliveto Abbey, which is a Catholic abbey
located in the Italian Tuscany.

There are multiple certified historical studies containing a large

number of documents that were sent from Rome for their safekeeping.
Those documents were papyrus and scrolls that had been recovered by
Catholics centuries ago from Egypt and said to be precisely from
Alexandria, the city founded by Alexander the Great in 332 BC.
Alexandria became the depository of all written copies of knowledge
of the ancient world before the proclamation of Christianity as the
official religion of the Roman Empire in the fourth century. Among
the shelves, there were more than 500,000 documents that were
collected from the library where knowledge of classical paganism had
been compiled. The Alexandria Library had a well-earned reputation
for containing secret books on magic, alchemy and astrology that gave
virtually unlimited power to their readers.

It was precisely the Catholic Church that, in its eagerness to avoid

knowledge and access to these pagan documents, concealed them as
they would have empowered the people if the thousands of papyrus
documents and scrolls distributed, therefore, the Italian monasteries
had them protected. That particular practice is explained by Umberto
Eco in his book, "The Name of the Rose," where, in his bestseller, he
clearly details that the pagan books and other writings were of great
interest for the monks, but the coup de grace from the Library of
Alexandria, was during the Arab invasion of 646 during the Christian

82
 White Balloon

Era. Caliph Omar gave the order, "If these books agree with the Koran,
we have no need for them, and if they oppose the Koran, they must be
destroyed." The order was clear and was executed without second
guessing. Before the imminent destruction of thousands of documents,
only a few could be recovered and sent for conservation in Rome that
later ended up in the Italian monasteries. Many religious followers
throughout the centuries had access to the documents obtaining
mystical and gnostic knowledge.

There is a remote possibility that this was why Lolita had

extensive knowledge about the secret doctrines and pagan religions.
Lolita for six years, was a custodian and became very close to Pily to
the extent that her pupil turned to her, was protected, discipled and
eventually apprenticed under her. When my mother turned fifteen,
Lolita, who became her spiritual mentor gave her an ancient Bible, a
Tarot set and some Viking Runes that Pily kept with her throughout
her life.

The ritual that Pily did to read the Runes I knew by heart. From a
young age I watched her read them. One day we were going to a
convent located in the Desert of the Lions just on the outskirts of
Mexico City, she told us that there she was filled with energy. For
those who do not know the place, many who have entered this
mysterious convent have witnessed paranormal phenomena, which it is
famous for.

Many say that along its corridors, when it is totally silent, you can
hear the songs and prayers of the deceased monks. My mother went
alone inside the ruined structures that once housed the convent. When
she returned to where we were waiting for her, we got in the car and
my dad drove into the forest parking in an isolated place. The Desert
of the Lions, being a national wooded park, there were many spaces
for families to entertain. While my dad prepared something to eat and
played soccer with us, my mom started with the ritual that Lolita had
taught her and had to be in direct contact with nature.

83
White Balloon

With a tree branch, Pily drew on the ground a runic rug that had a
circle in the center, and in each corner were the four elements that
represented nature according to the universal treatises on alchemy.
They are represented as follows: a triangle that points to the sky
representing Fire. If it points upwards but is crossed with a horizontal
line, it becomes Air because air always rises above fire. If the
equilateral triangle points down it symbolizes Water. If it is pointing
down and is crossed with a horizontal line, it represents the element of
Earth because water always penetrates the earth. These four alchemical
triangles together form a hexagram, or the mystical Star of David, that
acts as a powerful symbol in everything related to transmutation.

From that moment on, Pily covered her eyes with a soft and
flexible lambskin bandage, 10.6 cm long with a 1-3 / 4-inch wide strap
at the ends for easy tying. A bag of calf leather, where the runes were
kept, was taken out one by one with her right hand and in an almost
magical movement; Pily spun around three times and threw the runes.
The ones that landed outside the circle, she put back in the bag and
repeats the action until there were only 6 of the 24 runes left in the
circle. She had a lot of practice doing this and usually by the second go
she managed to get the 6 runes inside the circle.

Those 6 runes she would use in her ancestral ritual of the Rune
Celtic Cross. Pily arranged the runes in a cross, the first rune is placed
on the right arm of the cross and refers to the past; the second is the
lower trunk of the cross and indicates the current situation of the asker;
the third is the left arm of the cross and signifies the future; the fourth
rune forms the final part of the lower trunk and refers to the asker’s
subconscious impulses; the fifth rune is the first part of the upper
trunk, which indicates the obstacles that are yet to be overcome, and to
finish forming the cross; and the sixth rune is placed at the upper end
and indicates the best way out of the situation - a solution to the
problem or to keep heading forward.

The oldest runic alphabet, said to be the original, consists of 24

runes called Futhark. Over time the white rune was integrated, which

84
 White Balloon

is the most powerful and are equivalent to the Norse god Odin, also
known as Wyrd, which represents destiny. When it appears in reading,
we can only rely on the heavens in that moment as there is only faith
in destiny. The Wyrd, or white rune, is the equivalent in tarot as the "0.
The Fool" card. As for the Rune Celtic Cross method, a similar
method is used in tarot, the difference is that with the runes, there are
only 6 that are used, while in tarot there are 10 arcanas that guide the
reader and asker through the past, present and future.

It was the end of 2014; a few days had passed since I returned
from Playa del Carmen and I went to talk with Pily about the tarot
reading I had from Sandra. It was a Sunday when I arrived to her
house to visit. My dad had just finished go to the Azteca Stadium with
his friends to watch a soccer game, my mom asked me to accompany
her to the Desert of the Lions to toss her runes. When we arrived, she
began the ritual as I had seen her do many times before, I watched
closely. While blindfolded, Pily spun around three times before tossing
the runes, and although she was 63 years old, she seemed as agile as I
had remembered her when I was a child and saw her do that same
movement. On this occasion, when she finished consulting the runes,
she told me she had taken advantage energy she had felt and was
inspired to direct the runes at me. She did it through the Celtic Cross
method. When she finished organizing each of the runes, she explained
it to me. The white rune had come up in the third position that formed
the left arm of the cross and refers to the future, meaning: destiny will
be controlled by my future and I will not be able to do anything about
it. But I did have good news, because the 6th rune, placed at the top of
the cross, meaning the way forward, I got the "Fehu - ᚩ" rune, which is
hopeful because it encourages us to keep moving forward, no matter
how black the panorama surrounds us. She smiled a little because she
told me that according to the runes, my life was like a story, "a crazy
story," with many ups and downs. According to the runes, in one or
two years I would take a long trip, and on that trip, I would be faced by
some challenges, but the runes themselves would find a way for me to
get through it, and I didn't have to worry about anything.

85
White Balloon

With a very thoughtful face she commented that she found it very
peculiar that throughout the years in all the readings she had done,
there was a common factor, the “The Fool” card or the equivalent to
the method that was being used. I immediately told her that night in
Playa del Carmen when Sandra read my cards, “The Fool” had also
come up, but I do not doubt that this card "represents Wal2ka, Wal2ka
is the fool"; Pily asked me not to draw such hasty conclusions. She had
to reflect on this and recommended that I stay sharp because on that
long trip that I was about to take, I would find the answer to most of
my questions.

It was April 2016, and by then five years had passed since Wal2ka
died, and Mau had been in charge of organizing everything necessary
to take me on a surprise holiday trip. He wanted to visit Melissa, his
cousin, who lived in “that cosmopolitan city,” for 18 years. When we
arrived after a 15 hour flight, we remembered that here things are
backwards, or is it that the rest of the world is? Well, for the sake of
safety, the important thing is to remember that cars drive on the left of
the road and therefore, the authorities decided to paint on all their
crosswalks very useful 'Look Right' signs, which way you have to look
before crossing the streets.

The first day, we went directly to the British Museum, but what
was most impressive was Queen Elizabeth II’s Grand Atrium, located
in the center of the museum with its glass and steel dome. There was
also a reading room which was surprising. After a while, we went to
the 4th room, and I was particularly interested in "The Rosetta Stone."
After appreciating its glory for a while, I read in a booklet that the
museum gave us at the entrance that it was one of the museum’s most
prized pieces of the entire collection, because it represented the power
that England had over France in the signing of the Surrender of
Alexandria. I explained this to Mau that I was interested in seeing that
piece after reading a book that I had loved called, “The Bonaparte
Expedition” by Robert Solé. It is about the adventures of Napoleon
Bonaparte when he explored Egypt in 1798 with the top French
scientists of the time. There they discovered a plaque with writings on

86
 White Balloon

one of its faces. It contained three different types of inscriptions of the

same text, which were in hieroglyphs, ancient Greek and common
Egyptian. The book referred to the plaque as the Rosetta Stone, and
now that I was in front of it, its existence in the world meant so much
because thanks to that stone, it was the key to the modern
decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyphs. Next to us was a middle-aged
tour guide who overheard us speaking in Spanish. He told us that he
would like to practice speaking Spanish with us and in return he would
give us a tour of room 41 for free.

According to the guide, who knew the room very well, when
giving us the tour stopped for a while at “The Seax of Beagnoth,”
which was a short Viking sword from the ninth century. The blonde
guide explained that this piece was found in the Thames River in
Battersea (London). Its importance lies mainly in the fact that it has
one of the first runic inscriptions engraved in futhorc, clarifying that
the runes are not just stones as many people thought. They are symbols
that are part of an ancestral alphabet that can be found on multiple
objects. He continued explaining the characteristics of that sword, the
panel on the other side has two runic inscriptions inlaid with brass and
silver wire. The inscription on the left comprises the twenty-eight
letters of the Anglo-Saxon or Futhorc runic alphabet.
The inscription on the right was separated from the others by a
spiked silver and brass design. It was the personal name of a man or
Beagnoþ Beagnoth ᛒᛠᚷᚾᚩᚦ, which was supposed to be the forger or
the original owner of the sheet. I asked him about the runes inscribed
on the sword. He told us that in London there existed a very large
community of Viking and Celt descendants, who he happened to be
part of.

He explained that for 250 years, the Vikings were protagonists of

England’s history: first as city looters, later as warlords who litigated
with the Saxon royal house for the dominance of the island and finally
as kings of England. So, both of the runes have been used as part of
the popular culture on that monarchical island and it is not uncommon

87
White Balloon

to find objects, prints, advertisements and people with tattoos that

reflect some of the runic inscriptions. We had good chemistry with our
guide and we continued with for at least two more hours, ending our
tour in room 27 where we found a good sample of Aztec art. Among
all the pieces, the one that impressed me most was the Turquoise Mask
that represented the god Tezcatlipoca. That piece is mounted on a real
human skull.

On the third day, on Sunday, April 26, 2016 we went to the SEA
LIFE Aquarium, and later we had tickets for the 3 o’clock matinee to
see the Matilda the musical at the Cambridge Theater. Getting the
tickets was very difficult but not impossible. We did not know that
exact day the 2016 London marathon was happening. We made sure to
leave to the theatre two hours before the show began. When we left the
aquarium it rained a bit, we walked a few steps towards the
Westminster Bridge and by pure luck there was an opening in the
fence, which we took advantage of, and we crossed to the side where
Big Ben was and headed towards the legendary tower. The amount of
people was so impressive and also for the streets being closed. Just as
we arrived under the statue of Gandhi in Parliament Square Garden,
we realized that the theater was on the other side. We had to cross,
only now we were walking surrounded by people trying to do the same
but it was impossible to change the sides. The fences were protected
by hundreds of police officers, which made sense because there were
more than 37,500 runners participating in the 42.19 km marathon. We
heard in the news the next day that the Nigerian runner, Eliud
Kipchoge, won but the event was dampened by the death of the
Captain David Seath who collapsed from a heart attack after crossing
the finish line.

We could not cross so I told Mau that if we walked back to the

London Eye and tried to cross from there, we would be able to go
under the Waterloo Bridge to get to the Cambridge Theater. We were
weighing that option, when at that moment a policeman, who looked
like a true Viking, signaled to me and opened the fence. Not only to
us, but to a hundred people that wanted to cross to the other side. We

88
 White Balloon

walked along Parliament St. continuing onto Whitehall. We stopped at

the monument to the fallen women of World War II, and by that time
we were exhausted from so much walking when we noticed that there
were rickshaws or bike drivers around the corner. Whitehall was
pedestrian that day, so there was no other way to get around other than
by rickshaw or walking to get to the theater. So, we decided to jump
on a rickshaw that was driven by a tall blond man, full of tattoos,
dressed in black.

We cruised at full speed around Whitehall until reaching the

roundabout where the equestrian statue of Carlos I is located, we took
St. Martini's PI, which turned into Charing Cross, from there we
nearly ran over a person trying to cross the street. When we reached
Great Newport St, we turned right at full speed dodging pedestrians,
then on to Long Acre, turned left at Mercer St, crossed Shelton St,
finally arriving at the Cambridge Theater at 3:05 pm. We were
surprised at the speed and skill that rickshaw driver had. Many of his
tattoos represented letters of the runic alphabet. I noticed it and pointed
it out to Mau. When we got off, I was still surprised the speed that
blond guy had while driving that vehicle, moving it with all his energy,
that driver was cut from another cloth as if he was an athlete.

Already by then, the doors of the theater were closed and there
was no possibility of access, we were not the only ones who had
arrived late, due to the chaos caused by the marathon they were
expected approximately 20 more people between children and adults,
the theater doorman who because of its size, its huge body and its
almost red beards that covered that white face like the milk, it seemed
to be part of the show, the giant red beard, allowed us the entrance
making an exception to the rule, and everyone asked us to keep total
silence when we entered, that work I loved because I talked about
magic and I did not know the story, I had not seen the movie by Dany
de Vito, when we finished the show, we walked along the same
sidewalk to look for something to eat and as we headed towards Soho,
I could see that at the Palace Theater London it was announced that
Harry's musical would be released soon Potter, I thought deep inside

89
White Balloon

me that magic and mysticism could be found in every corner of that

first world city.

There were still three days left before we had to return home, so
we went to the Dominion Theater, located on Tottenham Court Rd,
where with a packed house, we saw a musical by Jeff Wayne, The War
of the Worlds, where Liam Neeson appeared in a 3D hologram. I could
not understand how people believed in other extraterrestrial worlds but
closed their minds in believing that magic could exist in this world’s
underworld. Sometimes it is hard for us to see what is in front of us
and I thought that many times, we are no blinder than those who do
not wish to see.

At the end of the show we took a black cab and went to Tower
Hill to take a tour in The Tower of London. There is nothing like
visiting it with a guide. Personally, I was impressed to know that for 6
centuries it was a real zoo and among the animals that made up the
collection, there were polar bears, elephants, lions, kangaroos and
ostriches. Nowadays, they are replaced by sculptures that represent
them. We also saw the popular Beefeaters that protect the treasures of
English royalty, we got to see the crown jewels, we heard stories about
the ghosts that appear, everyone ranging from Anne Boleyn to the
ghost of a brown bear. The guide also explained the reason why we
saw crows in the gardens; there is a legend that they have to keep at
least 6 crows captive: "If the crows of the Tower of London get lost or
leave, the Crown will be defeated and with it Britain," so the crows
have their wings trimmed so they can't fly away.

We heard the story about how Ricard III murdered his two
nephews. According to the guide, one of them was the heir to the
throne and was believed that they were killed in the Bloody Tower,
while the White Tower guarded the traitors of the crown and the King
was the one who determined that it was treason and accused anyone
who wanted to eliminate him either on a whim or for real political
reasons. After the tourist, we went to dinner with Melissa and Gareth,
during dinner we talked about “power is stronger than loyalty,”

90
 White Balloon

referring to the multiple betrayals the English crown had suffered

throughout history according to what we had learned that day. Then,
we talked about the runes, that if you paid attention and look closely,
you could find yourself in part of London’s urban culture. Gareth told
us he was born in Wales but his family’s origin was Celtic, and that
the runes are part of his family’s tradition.

We went to his apartment in Barbican Estate, which is an area of

London that was heavily bombed during World War II and for that
same reason the buildings are more modern than in the rest of the city.
In the apartment we had something to drink, while Gareth took out his
runes and a sheepskin rug with a spectacular design. He said
something in Welsh and threw me the runes using the "run of the three
runes" method, where three runes are taken one by one and then placed
from right to left. The first represents the past and the cause of the
problem, the second the present and the third the future. When he took
out the third rune, the white rune came out; he told me that my future
was uncertain, but according to him, the runes would open a path for
me, something I had already heard from Pily's reading two years ago
in the Desert of Lions. Suddenly, Gareth had an epileptic seizure and
Melissa immediately put a kitchen towel in his mouth. We were
shocked and stayed for a few minutes, then, when we all calmed down
and recovered, Melissa took the runes and went to put them away in
the bedroom. Gareth, in his very broken Spanish, told us what had
happened to him was not an epileptic seizure, it was a cathartic
reaction that happens to him whenever he reads the runes.

Catharsis is described by Aristotle as emotional, bodily, mental

and spiritual purification. In this sense, theatre offers viewers a range
of emotions, such as horror, anger, compassion, anguish or empathy,
which allows us to identify and connect with the characters and their
stories. Thus, the purifying effect that happens inside us, a catharsis, is
a method of emotional relief. People entering a catharsis purifies their
soul, filling them with freedom and fulfillment.

91
White Balloon

Many years later I finally understood what Gareth was referring to

about having a cathartic moment when he threw my runes. By then it
was a November 2019 and I was in Armando's Penthouse, that old sea
lion who had great admiration for Wal2ka, there he told me what
catharsis meant from a more tangible point of view. This topic came
up when we were talking about an experience I had with Ausencio
Cruz the actor, when I used to study theater at “Casa Azul.” This
school was owned by the production house Argos. At that time I was
the human resources manager in charge of a company with 5,000
employees, and many times I had to speak to a large number of
workers, so I decided to eliminate my fear of public speaking by
studying six performances based modules at that school, one of which
was about “improvisation on stage.” Ausencio Cruz was leading the
class, he was a comedian who for many years was “Brozo” the
clown’s partner, and who rose to fame thanks to his program “Shop
and Backroom.” Ausencio became very famous in Mexico and some
other Latin American countries with his character "Margarito" from a
T.V. sketch he did, "Lastima Margarito." The entire module lasted
approximately 6 weeks, so Ausencio and I got to know each other well
and, on several occasions, I had breakfast with him, my friend Yayo.
During one of those breakfasts, he told us that he was preparing for a
show at the Blanquita Theater, about the life of the Mexican comic
Germán Valdez “Tin Tan.” Both economically and professionally
needed that role. That same day in the middle of class, in the middle of
in of the improv scenes, he stopped the classroom and began saying a
few words in a voice like “Tin Tan” and without hesitating began to
singing "The Bare-necessities" while moving like Baloo the Bear from
the Jungle Book:

Look for the bare necessities,

The simple bare necessities,
Forget about your worries and your strife,

92
 White Balloon

Ausencio actually looked as if he was Baloo the Bear, that was

always one of my favorite characters, I loved the adaptation of
Rudyard Kipling's book “The Jungle Book” into the animated Disney
film. There was one particular moment during that classes I could have
sworn that I was watching Baloo the Bear and not Ausencio Cruz.
According to Armando, I had witnessed a live catharsis and that this
emotional level could be achieved and only several feet way. A nun,
for example, could experience a catharsis when praying or like what
had happened to Gareth, Melissa's boyfriend, when he threw my runes.

In precisely 2016, on that trip to London, I experienced a catharsis

without even knowing it. It happened during our last day, and I should
clarify that for only a brief moment, it something fleeting that did not
last more than two seconds, but during that moment I could feel
something extraordinary that made me reflect to such a degree that I
discovered life from another perspective. A few days before this, April
15, 2016, “The Jungle Book” was released worldwide, it was my
favorite book and Disney cartoon when I was a child, therefore, I
could not miss that screening. The new version was a mixture of live
action and CGI animation It had already been out for two weeks, the
premiere was over, so we had no trouble getting tickets. There were
several showtimes and we ended up at the 1:00 p.m. show at the
Odeón Theatre in Leicester Square, which is a pedestrian plaza in the
West End. We got off at the Piccadilly Circus subway station and
walked about 300 meters until we reached the middle of the pedestrian
plaza where there is a park in the center and a 19th century statue of
William Shakespeare surrounded by dolphins and a small garden of
red flowers.

We entered the Odeón, a two-story complex; the film was

presented in what looked as though it were the largest screen in the
world and the largest number of seats (more than 1600). During those
107 minutes, thanks to the magic of Disney, I was transported to a
world that I only knew and had visited before when I read Rudyard
Kipling’s book. An exceptionally well-made film in which the
environment was all jungle and nature, as for the characters, there

93
White Balloon

were different animals and a child, and the whole story told us about
the basic rules of life: "The laws of the jungle."

I left the theatre excited and just at that moment, in front of me

was that small garden with the statue of Shakespeare, amateur singers,
mimes and street performers surrounded by London passers-by, M&M
World, and the Victorian buildings that surrounded that square. This
entire scene looked like something from a movie about London. For
me, it was a true cathartic moment and for those one or two seconds, I
thought that the film had transported me to another dimension and I
was living in the movie. When I reached the climactic moment, in
which I did not know if I was living fiction or reality, the moment was
shocking and a very crazy experience for me; there I understood that
reality surpasses fiction.

Post-movie, we went to the Ripley´s Museum in Piccadilly Circus

to kill some time because at 7:30 pm we were going to see "The Book
of Mormon" at the Prince of Wales Theater. The theatre was close to
the Odeon so the plan was that we would go to the museum, eat
something and tour around in the meantime. Right on the sidewalk of
Great Windmill St, when I was about to cross the street, I felt someone
grab my arm, at that moment a car flew a few inches from me. The
person who had stopped me seemed as though he were from an erotica
novel, Tom of Finland. In an energetic voice he said: "Are you
crazy?", pointing toward the 'Look Right' sign painted on the ground
and telling me about which way to look before crossing the street.
It had dawned on me while I was on that sidewalk, to analyze
everything that had happened so far during our trip, from the British
Museum's tour guide, the police and the cyclist that day during the
London marathon, the doorman of the theatre, the rune reading from
cousin Gareth and to top it all off the close call with the man who
seemed to be from an erotica novel that saved me from being hit in the
middle of Piccadilly Circus. All these moments were so similar to
those of Wal2ka and Illy. All of them so Nordic, so Aryan, all clearly
descendants of Vikings and Celts, and I thought that probably through

94
 White Balloon

all these people, Pily's prediction had come to pass and the runes
opened the way for me the entire time during my trip. Mau stared at
me from the other side of the street, he didn't understand why I had
been so stunned by not being able to cross the street.

There is a mystical secret within the runes and I think I have not
yet fully understood why their magic is so unattainable for people or
too basic to understand. There are few who can reach that level of
knowledge that takes you back to the origin of everything and the
original source of learning, that when you get there you can then say,
"Now I know, I don't know anything," and that is what the
philosopher's stone was talking about in the Middle Ages; could it be?
All of these conclusions spun in my mind a thousand kilometers per
second, my thoughts were a real madness, the runes said that I was
living "a crazy tale".

To such a degree of not knowing if anything was real and also

questioning whether what had happened had happened or not, in my
mind everything made sense and until that moment, I understood why
in all the tarot readings I had the recurring “0. The Fool” card. An
answer came to mind the day Pily threw my runes in the Desert of the
Lions and told me very clearly that she could not understand why, I
myself, in my limited mind could not interpret what was in front of
me. It was clear that if in all my readings with different oracles, the
common factor was the arcane of The Fool, because I had to assume
that at some point this card represented Wal2ka, and I had been so
selfish and did not want to accept that this card could possibly
correspond to me, and, in fact, the crazy person was me ...

95
White Balloon

96
 White Balloon

XVI. THE THREE LOSSES

“Without crisis there are no merits, it is in the crisis where the best of each
one emerges, because without crisis every wind is caress”.

Albert Einstein

T
hey say that there are three losses in life that can destabilize
any human being: the death of a loved one, moving away from
home after many years of living there and ending a long-term
employment relationship. Those three losses happened to me in a span
of six months. Sometimes everything happens all at once, but I had
already learned how to overcome adversity and as Pily would say:
"when it rains, put on a happy face." By now, six years had passed
since Wal2ka's death.

It was 13:14:40 (1:14 pm) when everything in my office started

moving. Desperate screams could be heard, it was September 19,
2017. A few minutes before we had an earthquake drill to
commemorate the 32nd anniversary of the Mexico City earthquake of
1985. When that earthquake hit, I was 13 years old, I was on the
ground level, that’s why I could not bear to imagine it; it was a great
natural disaster that ended up causing death and misfortune.
Everything was moving out of control and all I wanted was get out of
this old structure where my office was. I ran away terrified. Below me,
when I realized that there was no eminent risk and since I was in
charge of the human resources department at the time, it was up to me
to control the situation and reassure more than 500 employees who
were lined up in the main courtyard.

97
White Balloon

When we were able to coordinate everyone's transportation home

to their families, most of them were desperate, there was no cellphone
signal and no one had any news of their relatives. I was calm because I
could talk to Pily. That day the city was turned into chaos.

When I finally got back to my apartment, after three hours in

traffic, Mau was already waiting for me. There was no electricity in
the entire neighborhood, everything was silent. I lived one block from
the Angel of Independence, the busiest place in the city, but at that day
it was like a ghost town.

The only place open was my friend Irma’s cafe, who, when she
saw me, hugged me and said to me in a low but confident tone: "I kept
you two ham sandwiches, there is nothing else that I can offer them."
With her eyes, she turned to point out a row of approximately 20
people waiting outside her restaurant to get something to eat.

When we returned to the apartment after hearing all the stories

from my neighbors and watching YouTube videos how quickly the
buildings fell, we made a radical decision. We collected our important
papers, packed a couple of bags and went to take refuge in a place that
Pily had built a few years ago on the outskirts of the city. Seeing the
immensity of the catastrophe, we decided to never go back to that
apartment that was located right in the middle of the worst hit area of
the city. The next week we were already set up in a house in the
suburbs. A short time later I realized that I left an apartment so fast
that had so many memories and where Wal2ka had lived during his
last days.

The second loss came on January 5, 2018, in the morning, just

when the traditional “Rosca de Reyes” was cut. I detected that there
was a plastic doll that represents the child God where I had cut.
Supposedly, it is good luck to get it, but I never thought of that myth
that way. That day in the afternoon, I was able to negotiate my
withdrawal from the company. For mental health reasons, it was
necessary to close my work cycle with that company that had given me
so much over the past years, but had become very difficult to work

98
 White Balloon

there. In addition to that, my office was in the most dangerous

municipality in the country, crime had increased in the last months to
exaggerated levels; it had already become a risk going to and from
work. I finally decided to leave my job of eighteen, where I was no
longer happy. The loss of a job after so many years for some people
can be considered very painful.

The most painful and surprising loss I had during those six
months, was the death of my mother on February 24th, 2018, just ten
days before we were to celebrate my birthday with the whole family.
My mom was as fine as normal, even when I said goodbye, I would
joke, "Pily, you look so vibrant." On Thursday, February 22nd I was
having breakfast with Nanda in a restaurant on Avenida de Las
Palmas, when I received a phone call. It was my dad telling me that
my mom felt bad and was going to be hospitalized. When I arrived at
the hospital, the doctor told us that Pily had an aggressive form of
pancreatitis. Two days later she passed, but not before saying goodbye
to each of us, her grandchildren and even her daughters-in-law. When
it was my turn to say goodbye, we were talking for about an hour, then
finally said while looking at me with those spectacular green eyes:
"Don't cry and don't worry, because you and I will meet again."

99
White Balloon

100
 White Balloon

XVII. VEINTE AÑOS

“Destiny is the one that shuffles the cards, but we are the ones who play
them”.

William Shakespeare.

W
e did not move for a second and remained under that
lantern that just gave us a little light, it was literally like
being in the wolf's mouth, and I have to admit, that if there
were times when I was a little nervous, over little things, this was just
out of control. It was about 4:00 am and we were starting to see some
movement, that calmed me down, in the distance I saw a passenger
truck coming. I told Mau that we should hitchhike just to get out of
there once and for all, we made the “stop” gesture but it passed by at
full speed without any intention of stopping. when we turned around to
see how it went straight by without paying any attention to us, we
heard the horn of an old Chevrolet 1956, driven by Benito the taxi
driver, who helped us get out of that place. Mau was careful to ask for
his cell phone number the first day we met him. When Benito opened
the door and we got into the car, I finally felt that I was finally in a
safe place. He had a stern face like a grandfather while scolding his
grandchildren, he told us: “Guys, what the hell you are doing here in
this dangerous place? The people who live here don’t even come
here."

The trip took thirty minutes back to Vedado, when the old
Chevrolet stopped at the roundabout leading to the main entrance of a
historic hotel that had opened in 1958 with a very hip Conrad Hilton in

101
White Balloon

1959 who would end up being the live-in headquarters for Commander
Fidel Castro for three months in suite 2324. We said goodbye to
Benito that taxi driver, we had met him on the Havana promenade the
first day we arrived and became our personal driver for the 9 days we
stayed on the island. We got out of the car and headed immediately to
the cafe "La Rampa" located in the Hotel Habana Libre, where we
were starving - that restaurant in particular had 24-hour service. We
arrived at the bar and the head waiter who usually took care of us at
night, came out of the kitchen, and I was sure I had met him many
years ago in the same place, doing the same job. Those who have
visited Cuba over the years, would not call me out for saying that in
many ways and the people who live there seem to have been frozen in
time. We settled in at the bar and we each asked for a ham sandwich,
and a drink, I had a “TuKola” Ciego Montero and Mau a Bucanero
beer “Malta”. We were finally calm and safe, but I felt a little
disappointed, because it had been seven days since we arrived on the
island and we only had two days left, and the bad thing was that I had
not been able to fulfill the promise I made to Pily, despite all we had
gone through.

The last day I saw Pily while saying goodbye in the hospital, she
asked me to keep an eye on my dad and gave me a special assignment,
she wanted me to do three favors for her: take her 18 shells, her blue
and white Yemaya necklace, and her Elegguá to Cuba and in Havana
give them as an offering as per her indications that she gave me. For
Pily, her beliefs were important and for me to carry them out did not
cost me anything.

The Santeria is more than a religion; it is primitive magic, which

has roots in the Caribbean islands originating to slaves from Africa. In
the beginning, Santeria was practiced clandestinely and was
prohibited, but after the Cuban Revolution, thanks to the freedom of
worship, it became the second most important religion of the island
after Catholicism. It is not easy to become a santero or santera, the
candidate must go through an intensive process which includes the
teaching of divine skills, rituals and moral behavior that is transmitted

102
 White Balloon

informally and nonverbally. The kari osha ceremony lasts for 7 days in
which the person is reborn, orishas are received, itá de santo is
obtained and the name of the corresponding saint, then the chosen few
will be taught how to work with shells and coconut divine means. I
should mention that all knowledge about the santeria can have
constructive or destructive purposes, according to the ethical and
morality of each santero.

It was March of 2019; a year had passed since Pily died when I
went my parents' house to pick up her things to carry out her final
wish. I was in the house all afternoon that had brought given me so
many memories; when I said goodbye to my dad, I had my mother’s
18 shells, the blue and white Yemaya necklace, and her Elegguá.
These three elements that she cherished; I would need to fulfill the last
promise I made to her in the hospital. Mau and I were ready for our 9-
day trip to Cuba, according to the plans I made, it was enough to carry
out the three tasks that I promised Pily. I was very excited to go back
to Havana, I had previous visited on eight other occasions, the first
time I was 20 years old. I loved the Cuban party scene, the people, the
Spark-train, the music, dominos, the East beach, the ice creams of
Coppelia, La Bodegita del Medio, the Hemingway Marina, El
Tropicana, Old Habana, I really loved everything about the city, which
had seemed was frozen in time. But apart from the parties, I had a
deeper affection for the island, because as a child I listened to my dad's
friend Germán, and his stories. He was a doctor who graduated from
UNAM and was one of the first protesters against the Mexican
President Díaz Ordaz government in 1968. He told us many of his
adventures, many of which, he said that on a couple of occasions, he
had meetings at Café La Habana with Fidel Castro and “El Che”
Guevara when they lived in Mexico. That was one of the chosen
places by the supporters of the Cuban Revolution.

In that same moment my grandmother Tita, also told us that Fidel

Castro, “El Che” Guevara and several of the members of the
revolution were arrested in Mexico for being armed, and after being
handed over to the Federal Directorate Security (DFS) were kidnapped

103
White Balloon

for six days. That story was confirmed several times by Fidel Castro
himself in several interviews. They were soon released, thanks to the
intervention of former Mexican President Lázaro Cárdenas. Tita and
my parents had many friends with communist views, I did not know
Cuba at that time, but if I liked the Cuban trova music. We listened to
it often at home, songs by Silvio Rodriguez and Pablo Milanés were
my dad's favorites, but for Pily, her favorite Cuban song was “Veinte
Años” She would sing it with a magical nostalgia and if I was there
while she was singing, would look into my eyes and begin to cry.

I looked for the paper where I had written the 3 tasks that Pily
asked me to perform, each with its own indications. I searched the
internet and Wikipedia for some information that I did not know about
santeria, such as the meaning of “Babalawo.” What I finally found was
there was a priest who used the divine Rule of Ifá. He did not use the
powers of divinity as a medium but as a complex system of signs
through sixteen Kola seeds, which are a type of palm tree seed, or in
this case, sixteen shells; this system came from West Africa. The
Babalawos under the Rule of Ifá are described as aspects of life who
seek guidance and protection. Their main function is to assist people to
understand life, until they achieve spiritual wisdom as a part of their
everyday experience.

What I had to do to fulfill the three tasks sounded very easy; for
the first, Pily asked me to look for a Babalawo, to whom I would give
her Elegguá as an offering, she gave me some information to write as
well, I had to look for a specific woman, mulatto, dressed in white or
blue, to identify her she would be wearing a blue and white necklace
representing the God Yemayá. To make things easy for myself, I
thought of using my institution to find her. The second favor was that I
had to throw her necklace into the sea from the Malecon in Habana.
Pily, at some point, told me that when she made her necklaces ritual
initiation, the santero «Obá Ení Oriaté» who is a santero with
extensive knowledge and experience, gave her the Yemaya necklace,
with the colors blue and white.

104
 White Balloon

Yemaya is the Goddess of the Sea, among all the main gods of
Santeria this is one of the most popular and beloved, the equivalent of
a majestic queen, a supreme queen of salt water and the patron saint of
the Port of Havana, Cuba. Her favorite color is blue, according to the
initiation ritual, and it turned out that Pily was Yemaya's daughter. The
third and final favor was her 18 shells; I had to bury them in the sand
at Las Playas del Este, but if I could not find the Babalawo to hand
him the Elegguá, then I would have to bury it in the sand with the 18
shells.

I knew the city well and since I am a person of deep-rooted

customs, on this trip I would again stay at Habana Libre. Mau had
never been to Cuba and from the moment we arrived, he was surprised
at the architecture, the old cars and the magic of its overall
environment. The first thing we did after settling in the room, was go
down to the pool to enjoy a wonderful relaxing day and lie in the sun
to get a bit of a tan. Almost at dusk, I suggested we take a taxi to El
Capitolio. The taxi driver who took us was a very funny man with a
wrinkled face, about 70 years old, named Benito. He told us that his
parents had named him after the Mexican politician Benito Juárez,
who was very recognized in Cuba.

We had a good time in front of the capital building, admiring the

magnificent architecture. It was already 8:00 pm when we walked
towards the Hotel Inglaterra, a historic hotel that has prime location in
front of the Central Park and is very close to the capital building. It is
located there in order for people to stop before they continue exploring
the historical center of the city. We went up to the rooftop terrace for a
soda, it was semi empty so we decided to go back to the lobby. The
outdoor terrace at the main entrance already was drawing a crowd, the
waiter told us that if we did not want to stand, we could share a table
and sit with the band that was taking a little break. We were happy to
accept as we were dead after having walked so much. The band
members made room to accommodate the two of us as the waiter took
our order. The Cubans are notorious chatterboxes, they immediately
introduced themselves to us, Juan, Luis, Roberto and Eva, the lead

105
White Balloon

singer of the group - a very sexy and attractive woman, her face and
overall appearance were timeless. She could have been between 40
and 50 years old or older, but you wouldn’t be able to tell. She
constantly smiled at us showing off her huge white teeth. We talked
with the band for about 10 minutes; Eva commented that Mexicans
and Cubans had many things in common as if they were cut from the
same cloth. Their show continued, so they got up from the table, while
Eva left us in charge of her handbag. Just as they were starting their
set, Eva dedicated the classic Cuban song, "Son de la Loma" to us:
Mamá yo quiero saber de donde son los cantantes
que lo encuentro muy galantes
Y los quiero conocer
Con su trova fascinante que me la quiero aprender.

After listening to them for a while, we paid the bill and got up to
go find another place to have dinner in the historical center. We passed
by other tourists who happily danced, in the distance we waved good
bye to the band, and when Eva saw us, she blew us kisses.
The days went by little by little, while I was showing Mau the
tourist places of Havana, most of the time he preferred to walk. He
also asked if Babalawo was really going to his promise - this was the
most difficult part of the mission, the other two favors were easily
achievable, but now four days had passed and there was no sign of
Babalawo. I told Mau we should go visit the Museum of the
Revolution but first we had lunch in the hotel cafeteria. When we
finished, we left and walked towards the Malecon. It was cloudy but
the weather was perfect and felt great as we walked to the museum.
We took our time walking along the Malecon until we reach the Paseo
del Prado, where we took a couple of pictures in front of the lion
statues; the bronze statues seemed to guard the Paseo. While we took a
“selfie” with our phone, we heard a voice that call to us: “Mexicans;”
when we turned around, it was Eva who was with two other ladies. At
first, I honestly did not recognize her, because the day we met her for

106
 White Balloon

the first time, she was wearing a spectacular blue dress, and was now
in jeans and a white shirt, with this on she looked even younger. Eva
was a very nice and attractive woman; we talked a few minutes with
her and her friends, we told her that we were going to visit the
Museum of the Revolution. As we said goodbye, she invited us to go
see her that night at the terrace show at the Hotel Inglaterra. The music
group was the best part and played there every day from 6:00 until
9:00 pm. We said goodbye promising to be back later to hear her sing.

While we went to the building that housed the Museum. The

building was originally the former Presidential Palace, a cultural
heritage site consisting of approximately 9,000 pieces between 30
exhibition halls; the Hall of Mirrors and the Golden Hall alone are
worth cost of admiration. Mau was surprised that on the first floor
there was marble bust of Benito Juárez. We a tour guide told us that
most of the foreign visitors were only going to know the “Granma”
yacht, a boat that carried 82 Cuban travelers who traveled from
Mexico to Cuba and began the fight for national independence.
Personally, the display that I liked most, were the two wax statues of
Camilo Cienfuegos and Ernesto “El Che” Guevara dressed as
guerrillas warriors in a life-size diorama in the Cuban jungle. Germán,
my dad's friend, told us that Camilo Cienfuegos was killed, although
the official version said that he died in a plane crash, but due to the
strange circumstances of his disappearance, there have many different
versions saying he was murdered.
The historical character I liked it a lot, Camilo Cienfuegos, was
known as "El Comandante del Pueblo", he was a revolutionary leader
who was humbly extracted and was very popular among the Cuban
people; most likely for that reason he was a "not so ideal leader" for
the government. We finished our tour in the outer area of the building
where the “Granma” yacht was located, that museum is pride and joy
of the Cuban Revolution.

Leaving there, we headed back to Paseo del Prado towards the

Central Park, we stopped for something to eat at Prado and Neptune

107
White Balloon

Restaurant, where we ate on the terrace for about two hours as we

watched families pass by. When it was getting dark, we went back to
the hotel; when we arrived, the terrace was again buzzing with
excitement. Eva signaled to us to sit at her table with the rest of the
band. We talked for a while with our new friends during their break
and before they started their next set Eva again put us in charge of her
handbag. They took their places and began playing "Guantanamera."
Eva had a spectacular voice, I got chills when I heard her sing, they
were excellent musicians, and that's why the place was buzzing.

We only had three days until we returned to Mexico, and had no

idea where I would find Babalawo to give my mother's Elegguá to. We
had practically traveled everywhere in Havana. We woke up early that
day and went for breakfast at the Hotel Nacional de Cuba, one of the
important places that Mau were missing to visit. It is one of the most
classic and emblematic hotels of Havana, its luxurious, elegant,
distinct and their service is first class, and is also considered a national
monument. After breakfast, we went for a drink in one of the hotel’s
main gardens. We felt an unsettling presence that inhabited the
gardens, it was not more than 11:00 in the morning, when I proposed
to Mau to go for a walk through the center of Old Havana to see if we
would be lucky to find Babalawo. Mau called Benito to pick us up at
the lobby of the National Hotel to take us to the center. In less than 25
minutes we were walking in the Fe del Valle Park. We bought an ice
cream and sat for a while under a tree, in the distance, I saw a woman
dressed in a white mulatto waiting for the bus. I told Mau to wait for a
minute while I walked towards that woman who looked like a Santera.
I told her that I had to see a Babalawo and she responded that her
Godmother, Olga, was a well-known Babalawo on the island. She
gave me her cell number, I thanked her for the information, we said
goodbye, I excitedly returned to Mau, and told him what happened. I
called Olga, and after we talked for about five minutes, she agreed to
meet at 3:00 pm at "La Rampa" cafe in the Habana Libre Hotel.

When Olga arrived, she asked us to order her something to eat

while we began talking about the parcel we had brought to Cuba.

108
 White Balloon

According to Olga, a delivery ceremony of the saint had to be

performed, which implied several things; therefore, the ritual would
cost me a few dollars. I gave her a small amount in advance and I
would give her the rest after the ceremony. She agreed, and said she
would be by for us at midnight to take us to the place where the ritual
would be performed, because the delivery of the saint had to be done
between the last hours of the morning and the first break of dawn. She
finished eating, we said goodbye and we went up to enjoy a moment in
the pool. At night, when she arrived for us, it was exactly twelve
o'clock, there were 3 other people with Olga in the old Soviet car that
would take us to our destination. They were all dressed in white just
like the two of us. We traveled for approximately 45 minutes and we
arrived at a place called "La Selva," we had crossed the Almendares
River and the Almendares Park, we were very far and there were no
signs of any tourist activity in those areas. We could visibly make
everything out, and although they say that at night "all cats are black,"
the houses all looked very neglected than in the rest of Havana.

We arrived at a house that was very large compared to the rest,

when we entered there were more people also dressed in white, we
greeted them and took our places. We were immediately served a glass
with a good amount of “chispatren,” one Cuba's strongest and most
famous drinks, you have to be very careful because “la chispa del
tren” is a true “black-out” effect for inexperienced drinkers. We did
not accept the drink and explained that Mau was a light drinking and
would be dangerous for him to drink it as he did not have a high
tolerance. Our hosts didn’t like very much, because it seemed that they
wanted to get us drunk as they immediately took out a bottle of rum
and offered us a drink, which we also rejected. It was the middle of the
night and people were still arriving, I had my mother's Elegguá in a
small handbag along with the shells and the necklace. Olga told me
that we had to wait until dawn for the rooster to crow, that same
rooster would then be sacrificed for the saint. Since I do not know
much about these rituals it seemed logical, we were talking to those
who were there, when I heard how one of the guests that appeared to

109
White Balloon

be the oldest, asked Olga if she had invited a Babalawo for the
delivery of the saint. We all felt uncomfortable and Olga took the old
man to the other end of the house where we saw them speak. Let’s just
say the Cubans are not very silent speakers, we could hear the old man
say to Olga, that what she was doing was very bad, and that religion is
much more than just taking money.

By then I had already taken out my mother's Elegguá and placed it

next to some candles according to Olga's indication, after hearing the
comment from the old man to Olga, I told Mau that I no longer felt
comfortable in this situation, and by then it was almost 3:00 am. I
called Olga and asked her to please read my shells while we waited for
dawn, which she replied that this shell reading would cost me some
extra dollars. Olga took me to the kitchen, while Mau was in the living
room talking with a very nice lady.
In the kitchen Olga took out her shells and began reading, my
mother had taught me the art of reading shells, although I could not
practice it or toss them only knowing some of rules. When Olga made
the first run, she only used 12 of the 18 shells. One of the main rules
that Pily had taught me was that the Board of Ifá, which is a kind of
oracle, is limited to 16 shells to make the reading, people who are not
initiated in Oracle of Ifá only use twelve shells, I already had my
doubts about whether Olga was a Babalawo or not. I told Olga that she
did not see her divinity amulet in her hand, her "Ekuele" which is a
necklace with eight seeds or metal stones, are joined on a colored
necklace according to the chosen God. She told me that she did not
have it on hand at that time, but even without it she could read the
coconuts. That’s when I noticed I was being played, no Babalawo uses
coconuts as a means of divinity, the technique of coconuts is only used
by the Santeros. I told her it would be better continue and finish with
the reading of the shells, where she swiftly told me that if I wanted to
purify myself, I had to make a sacrifice to Yemaya through a pig
which would cost another dollar amount. I finished the reading with
her shells and returned to the room where people continued to drink
some rum.

110
 White Balloon

I sat next to Mau and very discreetly commented that we had to

get out of there, I said: "Go to the bathroom and call Benito to pick us
up." I went to the side of the house to pay Olga the rest of the money
for the ceremony. I told her that I knew she was not a Babalawo, and
that I was leaving with my things. I took my Eleggua that now
weighed considerably more as compared to its original weight, there
was confusion in the house, nobody knew what was happening, and
Olga was going crazy screaming at the people there.

We left the house in the middle of a very dark night, behind us the
old man came out and told us that we did the right thing, “Olga is not
Babalawo.” He pointed out the path we had to take and that we should
be very careful because we were in a very dangerous place. According
to his indications, if we walked in a straight line we would arrive to the
main street, where we could wait for someone to pick us up or the
other option would be not to move until it was light and wait for a bus
that would take us. He recommended that we be very attentive, I took
out a few dollars from my wallet to give them as a thank you, which he
would not accept, and he only asked us to be careful and to walk under
the streetlights. When we reached the main street, we stopped under a
streetlight that barely provided us with any light. Mau called Benito
again, who told him that he was already on his way. Mau explained
exactly where we were. We thought things had just gotten out of
control. It was about 4:00 in the morning, we were waiting for about
twenty minutes when a passenger bus did not stop to pick us up and
just then we heard the horn of the old 1956 Chevrolet, Benito behind
the wheel and was ready to take us back to the tourist area and the
Hotel Habana Libre.

We slept all morning and didn’t leave the hotel until 2:00 in the
afternoon, the night before we went through so many emotions that
anyone would be tired. Benito was waiting to take us to Las Playas del
Este, since I was not able to find the Babalawo on those beaches I
would end up burying the 18 shells and the Elegguá according to the
indication of the Pily, and when we returned I would throw the
necklace that my mother used and had so much respect for, in the sea

111
White Balloon

from the Malecon. The road to the Eastern Beaches was approximately
35 minutes from Vedado. Benito got us there by 3:00 pm. I loved that
part of Havana, needless to say we had a good time. A little before
5:30 in the afternoon, I told Mau that I was going to bury things in the
sand. It took us a while to dig until we made a fairly considerable hole,
where I placed the 18 coconuts and the Elegguá in the hole. I again felt
like that piece of clay weighed much more than its original weight. We
paid the bill and went straight to take the bus.

The distance between Las Playas del Este and El Capitolio is 25

minutes in an air-conditioned bus, the route is as follows: leave Central
Park (opposite the England hotel) and costs 5 CUC round trip; the last
bus returns at 6:00 pm from Santa María and has three stops, the last
being the Hotel Inglaterra. On our way, back I had the Elegguá in my
hands, and something in my got told me not to leave it there. I decided
to dig up the Elegguá and only left the 18 shells buried. During the
trip, Mau and I were talking about it being our last night, the next day
we would have to return to Mexico City first thing in the morning.
When we reached our final destination, the Hotel Inglaterra, it was
already 6:30 in the afternoon and I had not been able to fulfill my
promise. I told Mau we should return to Cuba in six months to fulfill
it. We got off the bus and we went to the terrace of the Hotel
Inglaterra.

We saw her Eva sitting at her table, and she jokingly waved at us
pointing to her watch, implying as if she had been waiting for us all
afternoon. She gave us a big hug while smiling with those huge white
teeth. We sat down, asked the waiter for something to drink and some
french fries to snack on. We talked a little with our friends in the band
and Eva interrupted everyone and asked us: “What were you two
doing in “La Selva” today at the crack of dawn?” Everyone was
shocked, and she told us that she was riding in the passenger bus that
did not want to stop us. She had gone to her sister's house and was on
her way back to Habana when she saw us, she recognized us
immediately and it was strange that we would have been standing
there and at that time of the morning. She came in close to me, and

112
 White Balloon

whispered in a more confident voice, she told me that she rode calmly
in the bus, because when she passed, she told me that I had a “Winged
Angel” by my side. I asked to clarify, “An angel with wings?” She
smiled and laughed as she said: “No negro, an angel that you have
next to you and take care of you,” with that her bandmates called her
because they were going to start the show. Before leaving, she told me
she told me to watch her handbag, and they started with a song that I
knew perfectly well, but my mind was elsewhere. Eva left me
reflecting on whether I really had an angel with me as she had said. In
that, I turned to see her handbag was open and in it I could clearly see
a divinity amulet, an “Ekuele” made with shells and a blue and white
necklace of Yemaya. When I paid attention to the melody Eva was
singing, it was “Veinte Años” a Cuban song that Pily would sing and
when she was in front of me her eyes would tear with an inexplicable
sadness.
Con qué tristeza miramos
un amor que se nos va:
es un pedazo del alma que se arranca sin piedad.

When I looked up at Eva, while directly observing her mysterious

eyes, I don't know why, but for a moment I thought that I saw Pily's
eyes superimposed on Eva's face. The song sounded, and I listened
closely to the melody, was as if it was Pily who was singing to me. At
that moment I carefully observed the singer who was in front of me,
she was a woman, a mulatto, dressed in white singing my mom’s
favorite Cuban song. I took the Ellegguá in my hands and I put inside
Eva's handbag. I swear to this day, that when I lifted the Elleguá, its
weight was very light; I could say that this god-made thing of mud and
shells weighed almost nothing. The Babalawo that I was looking for so
long all over Cuba was Eva.

113
White Balloon

XVIII. THE ALTAR OF DEAD

“Only the forgotten are really dead”.

Tess Gerritsen.

W
hen I arrived to the reception of the office, there was
already a free space where we would put the altar of the
dead. That day it was very rainy; Friday, October 25th,
2019, and in the main news on the radio was about the mass tribute to
the “Prince of the Song,” Jose Jose, that would happen in the Zócalo.
There was suspicion surrounding his death because one of the
daughters of the biggest Spanish-speaking singers, hid his body for
several days, social networks were full of “memes” that made such a
tragic situation comical, but in Mexico making fun of death is one of
our most cherished traditions.

Since I was a child, Pily had taught us that: "Death is not to be

feared, since it is the only thing we can be sure of," she told us stories
about spirits that appeared before people, in some of those that have
witnessed apparitions were important and recognized people who
would say the paranormal exists: Freud, Jung, Hesse or Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle. Even though she clarified that she had read in book of
psychology there is a phenomenon called "causal illusions," which
consists in detecting a cause-effect relationship. She did not say if
spirits existed or not, but that she liked to imagine that while she was
sleeping her deceased loved ones were watching over her.

We had everything ready to start assembling the altar of the dead.

First, we put paper cut in different colors on top, we arranged fruit
114
 White Balloon

baskets as part of the decoration, it had to be a very Mexican altar.

Little by little we put on the ceramic catrinas (popular skeleton figures
that represent this date), the sugar skulls, food that we would leave as
an offering, five candles, four caballitos (special shot glasses) with
tequila. I carried in some skulls dressed like mariachis with everything
and their instruments, to remember my musical friends, Wal2ka and
Ill. According to my work colleagues themselves, that altar was the
most colorful and fun than those of previous years, and Isabel, a work
colleague, made a rug with several seeds and sawdust of different
colors, it was incredible.
On November 2nd each year, for my family it was special, Pily
“threw the house out of the window,” an altar of the dead was never
missing and every year we held a costume party. The main dish was
delicious Oaxacan tamales made by Tita, my dad, Lupita and my
mom; they were the specialty of the house. My parents’ friends would
always arrive with their costumes, as the party had become a tradition.
We all looked forward to it, not only because of the fun of the party
but also because of what their dead meant to my mother. The whole
family seemed to be cut from the same cloth, my cousins were like my
siblings, and would plan with us the different costumes that we would
wear each year. Pily also took care of to paint our faces like skulls, it is
a tradition that continues to bring me joy, and every year we uphold
that tradition of, for one day, becoming a catrin; my favorite costume
of all being a skeleton in a black charro suit.
Looking back, I am sure that my mother sensed her death, one
time my father told me that Pily was urged to leave all the papers in
order, moreover, during the earthquake of September 19, 2017, my
parents in the notary office, but it was precisely on February 14, 2018,
the day we were celebrating my birthday, (she would die ten days later
at 67), after dinner, Pily took me to her bedroom to show me where the
cemetery papers were stored. It was to be held in the Dolores
Pantheon, her lot was a hundred meters from the roundabout of famous
people, but only about ten steps from Tina Modotti's grave. She joked
with me that when she died, she would like to have long conversations

115
White Balloon

with that famous Italian photographer. When we buried Pily I could

see it, from her grave you can see Tina's grave, but that day I took
advantage of the moment to ask her that when she died, if she wanted
to be buried or cremated, we had never talked about her death, she
very flirtatiously replied: "With this body I arrived and with it I want
to go, so you never know."

I was remembering that anecdote when Isabel asked me if I really

liked the day of the dead. She said I was very excited to put the altar
up, I said yes, that it was one my favorite dates, She confessed that she
did not like to celebrate it before but after having seen the movie
"Coco," now she really thought it was necessary to put up an altar in
her house and that the dead actually die when nobody remembers them
anymore.

Isabel and I were talking about that movie, when we heard Vic’s
strong voice, the corporate lawyer, from behind us. He had become
one of my best friends, and according to him, jokingly, he went to
inspect to see how we were doing with the day of the dead altar and
taking advantage of the moment, informed us that he brought a bottle
of Traditional Tequila as a gift for us to place it in an important place
on the altar. He wanted to dedicate the bottle in honor of José José,
after that comment he let out a Santa Claus like laugh that could be
heard throughout the reception. We all laughed at the comment, then
he clarified that the bottle was actually in memory of his mother that
had died a few months ago and wanted to put it on the altar. In a
mocking tone following his joke, he told us so we would not be sad, he
was inviting us all to the event in the Zocalo to say goodbye to the
“Prince of the Song” and again he let out his scandalous laugh. In that
moment, he played for us at full volume from his phone the song “El
Triste,” the greatest hit of the recently deceased.

While the song was playing, he approached me and told me that

although several months had passed, he still could not get over his
mother's death, that the mere idea of never seeing her again made him
very nostalgic. I, however, thought differently, just imagining myself

116
 White Balloon

with the possibility of seeing my loved ones again: Wal2ka, Pily, Illy
and Tita. I got excited and it has helped me to stay strong, just then,
Vic gave me a huge hug as he sang with overly dramatic sad emotion
the song of the "Prince of the Song".
No saben que pensando en tu amor, en tu amor
He podido ayudarme a vivir...

117
White Balloon

XIX. THE GIFT

“Los científicos dicen que estamos hechos de átomos, pero a mí un pajarito

me contó que estamos hechos de historias”

(Scientists say we are made of atoms, but a little bird told me that we are
made of stories)

Eduardo Galeano

T
he photographs from the White Balloon project had already
been used for exhibitions and events, but something was
missing, so I decided to make a symbolic book that would
bring the entire photographic series together and it would serve as a
thank you gift. For this I looked for several designers who could do
something unique, until the museum’s curator recommended that I
speak to Jorge, who at that time was working in a museum, in the
department of design of the Old School of San Ildefonso in Mexico
City.

Jorge was a very sensible person and with great imagination,

shortly after analyzing the photos for only a few minutes, he had a
proposal. The design of the book would be made from linen, or flax.
He explained that, in addition, it would have a symbolic meaning. On
his tablet he searched a few texts on Google and in the end, he
explained the following:

Linen is a natural fabric made from the fibers of the flax plant,
that dates back to more than 8,000 years ago and has been used
throughout history in ancient civilizations such as in Ancient Egypt. Its
use has been extensive and proliferated across the continents until
present today in Latin America. Today, it is still an important material

118
 White Balloon

and has a wide range of use, whether in industries, in our homes and
even as clothing. Its importance and durability are such that the
shroud, with which Jesus Christ was buried, was made of linen and is
still preserved to this day.

When I heard the idea that the book was lined with linen with the
photographs engraved on cotton paper, my face lit up with happiness.
It was just what I wanted, a unique design that was full of symbolism.
Since the images reflected the happiness and harmony of its
participants, we had to leave a record in a case worthy of the work
done by everyone: photographers, directors of the institution, models
with disabilities, parents, friends and all those generous people who
had taken the time to support us to make this project a reality.

Jorge started to work on the design, and after a month, the final
result was a unique masterpiece. It was a white linen lined box
measuring 11 cm wide x 14 cm. long x 2.5 cm. high. On the front,
there was an image of a balloon that was highlighted and letters that
formed the name “Todos Somos Uno” (We are all one). On the inside,
a part of the design was removed, looking very modern, and then the
book itself was a hard cover, also lined with linen with the same
characteristics of the case. All the photographs were printed on cotton
paper with perfect quality. They were joined together in accordion
style that, when extended, would measure 5 meters. In the end, it
ended up being a hard cover book lined with linen. Jorge explained to
me that the idea of printing the photos and joining them in that way
was so that whoever was looking at it, from the moment they started,
would be curious to see all the images from beginning to end, so we
would guarantee that they would see all the photographs.

I asked Jorge to make 6 more books with those same

characteristics; I already knew how I was going to distribute them. The
first would be for my parents; the second would be for the owner of
the company where I worked, for all he had done for me during the
time we worked on that project; the third book would be for his cousin,
who was the general director of the company and allowed me to take

119
White Balloon

the time to carry out the project; I gave the forth to Micky, Nanda's
brother, who is a close friend; the fifth was for Monkiki my best friend
and the last one would give it to the institution so that they had
evidence of the work that was done. That's how I decided to distribute
them; I needed to close that project with a show of appreciation for all
the support I received from those people.

I asked for each book to include 2 more pages, the first one saying
“Todos Somos Uno” and the second page containing a small text that
read:
In memory of Walter
Just as a mother protects her child at the risk of her own life,

That is how you must grow love in your heart, without limits for all
beings.
May your unlimited thoughts of love reach the entire world.
– Buda.
With love for:

And there Jorge printed the name of each of the people to whom it
was addressed, in order to personalize the gift and make it unique.

Pily loved that book and knew that I didn’t have any copies, so
that February 24, 2018, when we said goodbye and saw each other for
the last time, she told me that she wanted me to have her Tarot cards,
her Runes, her Bible and that she wanted the White Balloon book to be
with me, and that she had already spoken with my dad about it who
agreed. That was how a copy of White Balloon returned to my hands.

A week after my mother died, they told me about a Human

Resources area in one of the most important philanthropic institutions
in the country, and they had a position in which my curriculum fit
perfectly. I had left my information there, one year before I had
realized that I was no longer happy in my place of work, and that my
path needed to focus on philanthropy. It seemed that everything was

120
 White Balloon

taking a new path, I went through the interview process and a couple
of weeks later I was selected for the position.

In January, I had finished my employment relationship with the

company that I had been a part of for eighteen years. In February, just
four weeks later, I was already working in a French company that was
owned the brand Parmalat that specialized in dairy products and fine
cheeses. I was in the initiation process with my new coworkers, when I
received that so-called “call from heaven,” where I then realized there
was an opportunity to work in an institution that was dedicated to
helping the needy. Honestly, I did not miss the opportunity and gave
up the position at the French company.

My family had always been related to the assistance institutions,

my grandmother Tita, at the time, worked closely with President
Lázaro Cardenas, met and became close friends with her employer of
the oldest hospital in the continent located where it is assumed that
Hernán Cortés and Moctezuma II met for the first time in 1519. Cortés
ordered that the hospital was to be built to treat the soldiers wounded
while fighting against the Aztecs, and appointed Fr. Bartolomé de
Olmedo as first director. I knew that hospital like the palm of my hand
and was where my first medical card was issued.

For a year and a half, I worked closely with a person who knew
well the world of philanthropy and I was surprised at the level of
empathy he had with each needy person who approached him. His
level of affection and love for his fellow man left me with my mouth
open. My boss was a great guy and I loved my new job.

It was the end of October 2019, and I was having dinner at La

Única de Polanco with Diana and Bisdi. She was launching a new line
of beauty products called “Diamond Artistic” and told us about the
unique gifts she offered to her best sellers. I said I concerned that there
were only two months left until Christmas and I didn’t know what gift
I could give to my boss.

121
White Balloon

Returning home, I told Mau that I would like to give my boss a

special gift for all his support as a token of appreciation, he smiled and
said, "Now what special gift do you want to send?" I went to my office
and I was thinking about a special gift, when in that moment I
remembered that I had a copy of the White Balloon book at home.

I walked a few steps towards a spectacular oak chest that I had

made a few months before, the lid represented the mystical Eye of
Horus in full color, inside, the lid was lined with blue velvet with
silver stars and the bottom lined with red velvet; this represented
heaven and hell. I ordered the chest through Jorge, the same designer
who years ago made me the physical book design of the White
Balloon. In that chest, I stored my most precious things, only two
identical pieces that were built and one of them would be sent as a gift
to the owner of the company I worked at.
When I opened it, I took out the Tarot cards that had been a part
of Pily, I was shuffling them for a while and through the cross-
threading method, I asked them a question. When I finished, I put
them back into their silk case and set them in the chest next to the
Viking Runes that also once belonged to my mother and that I kept
stored in their calf leather bag. Then I took some pictures that were
inside and I began to look at them for a while when my parents were
teenagers. I remembered Pily saying, "to love each other, you have to
look alike.” The two were very similar in their ways of thinking, but
they were also physically similar; both had green eyes, something
weird, because some data shows that only two percent of the world's
population has that eye color.

After a few minutes, I took the White Balloon book out of its
white linen packaging and began looking at the photographs, one by
one. Exactly eight years had passed since the beginning of the project
and a year or so since I had last seen those images, the last time being
when my dad returned the book to me after Pily's death.

I remembered each of the stories as if they happened yesterday.

For a moment I thought that it would be the best gift I could give to

122
 White Balloon

my boss, when suddenly I heard in my mind the voice of Pily saying:

“I returned that book to you because only you know what it worth,
take care of it and remember nobody will value it like you.” Those
words would be recorded in my mind and I thought that if I gave that
book away as a gift, I would be left with nothing that would remind
me of that story. Also, the comment that "no one would value that
book like me," probably is true. I kept the book in its white linen case
that I liked so much, I placed it back with special care beside chess set
that Tita gave me when I was a child, and closed the chest that was
designed to protect my most precious treasures. The dreamer that I am,
I figured it would be very gratifying to one day share the story of
magic, resilience, love and disability that existed behind those 21
images, with someone.

I was very thoughtful, I don't know how long it had been since I
had opened that chest, but remembering all the stories that revolved
around the White Balloon project, I felt a chill, and suddenly I got
goosebumps and the inevitable happened. After so many years that
horror scene came back to my mind and again, I lived that horrific
moment that would change my life forever...

123
White Balloon

124
 White Balloon

PART THREE

“Now this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky, And
the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it
must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and
back;

For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is
the pack”.

The Law of the Jungle

Rudyard Kipling, 1895.

125
White Balloon

WAL2KA’S DEATH: THURSDAY,

MARCH 31, 2011

“The person who does not value life, doesn’t deserve it”.

Leonardo Da Vinci

I
had asked for vacation days to spend them with Wal2ka. I thought
that if I spent time and took him to Playa del Carmen for a few
days, I could make him change in his attitude. The last seven
months had been very difficult for the both of us. Since we returned
from the cruise ship, his depression had reached an extreme level,
every day I saw him get worse, to such a degree that I preferred to
have him live with me so he close.

There were months of continuous learning. When I saw that

Wal2ka was entering a state of depression like we had never
experienced, I looked for Ximena (an old adventure friend of mine) to
consult her on the subject. She gave me a solution and a few days later
I enrolled in the UVM University to study psychology. Since I already
had a bachelor's degree, I did not have to take some subjects. I chose
an intensive program from Monday to Friday, 4 hours in the
afternoons and a half day on Saturdays. It was six months of wear and
tear. I thought that preparing myself could help him out of his
depression, but I could not beat the inevitable, I was fearful every time
I talked to Ximena. After Illy passed away, I turned to Ximena, Lander
and Vivi ended up being my confidants throughout Wal2ka's
depression, really, he was never alone.

126
 White Balloon

That Thursday that my vacations began. I woke up later than

normal, went to the kitchen and prepared a capsule of coffee. I put on a
Erasure song that I knew was Wal2ka's favorite and I started to sing.
Always, I want to be with you
And make believe with you
And live in harmony, harmony oh love.

In a few minutes after the song began, Wal2ka appeared, with his
permanent sad face to which I had become accustomed to, and his blue
eyes, turned off without that youthful glow that characterized him. I
started singing and dancing next to him. When the song finished, I told
him that we were going to spend five days together, I also had a
surprise that was going to make him super happy, but everything that I
said was as if I hadn't said anything at all, there was no expression, I
could see dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, and
although he looked exhausted, he still maintained his baby face.

I took him for breakfast at the Lynis of the Diana the Huntress in
Reforma. There, little by little, he started to cheer up, for a moment he
seemed to be recovering. I told him that I would take him to Playa del
Carmen and that only the two of us would go. After that, I felt less
distant than in previous months. When we returned to the apartment,
Aby handed me a message from my boss that said I was needed in the
office. It was common for that to happen, it seemed that my boss was
waiting for me to take a vacation just to call me back or something like
that. I subtly tried to explain to Wal2ka what was happening and that I
had to go to work just for a couple of hours. He replied with a tone of
complaint: "For you, that company is more important than everything
else."

During breakfast, he had told me that he no longer wanted to

return to live in his apartment. I told him to come and live with me
permanently; I had been living in my house for almost six months. I

127
White Balloon

suggested that he go to his apartment that afternoon for some of his

things and little by little, bring whatever he needed.

That Thursday we celebrated Christian "Blue’s" birthday, he was

a good friend of Wal2ka and I. The plan was that we were going to
meet at Picco's house in Polanco for the pre-drinks and then go to the
party together. Picco’s apartment, which had one of the best views in
Mexico, had been the scene of multiple parties that we would organize
between the three of us for several years. Those parties were where
Wal2ka would once again be that free loving DJ who would play the
most eclectic music anyone could imagine. That place was so much
fun. I was sure that being there again was going to bring back good
memories for Wal2ka and that could help improve his mood.

I arrived to the office at noon and was working for at least six or
seven hours. When I finished, I set out to leave from the industrial
complex that was located in one of the most dangerous municipalities
in the country. It only took about thirty minutes to get out of the
municipality and adding the Mexico City traffic on top of that, it did
not help at all. I finally arrived home at 8:40 pm, but there was no one
in the apartment, neither Mau, nor Wal2ka, and I assumed they were
together. I had just enough time to shower and change.
I finished showering when I received a call from Mau telling me
that he had gone to the supermarket. I asked him about Wal2ka and he
told me that he believed he was still in his apartment; they had spoken
by phone around five in the afternoon. I hung up and the apartment
doorbell rang, it was my friend Sebastian who came for us to go for
pre-drinks. I told him to come up for a few minutes because I was
alone. While signing in with security and riding the elevator, I took the
opportunity to call Wal2ka's cell. He didn’t pick up and I was sent to
voicemail. While serving Sebastian a drink and waiting for Mau, I
continued trying to locate him without success.

Mau arrived with two bags from the supermarket. A voice inside
told me something was wrong. Sebastian asked me if something was
wrong because I had turned pale. That moment I assumed the worst. I

128
 White Balloon

told them we had to go to Wal2ka's house, so we went down to the

building’s underground parking and left in Mau's car towards Seville
Street near the Palacio de Hierro on Durango Street. We were only a
few minutes away from where I lived, and although it was a short
distance, the journey became eternal. I called Picco who was with José
Luis waiting for us in his apartment for pre-drinks. I told him that he
should meet us at Wal2ka's house because I had a bad feeling; he
understood and told me that he would meet us there in a few minutes.

When we arrived to the building, the doorman who already knew

me, opened the front door of the garage for Mau to park his car in one
of the two available places. We left it right next to Wal2ka’s VW-
Beettle. We went up the elevator and when we reached the door of his
apartment, I heard music and that calmed me down. For a moment, I
thought he was taking a shower and that's why he didn't hear to my
calls, but I soon realized that the music was coming from another
department, where, due to the volume level and the noise of some
voices, it could be assumed that he was having a party. I kept knocking
on the door and ringing the doorbell, meanwhile, Mau called his cell
and Sebastian called the landline of the apartment.

The doorman went up to see if we needed anything, because he

saw us worried and told me that at about six in the afternoon he had
seen him leave to the Oxxo in front of the building, and that Walter
returned soon after with a bottle of vodka in his hand, but he didn't
notice anything strange in him, he only felt something different. "Mr.
Walter is like that, he changes his mood all the time," and he told me
that if it were necessary, everything was recorded on the building's
cameras.

After several minutes of calling him and knocking him without

response, I decided to call Charrito to meet us there. I don't know why
I figured he would have a set of keys to the apartment. First, Picco
arrived with José Luis and a short time later Charrito arrived and told
me that he had keys to the apartment but that a week earlier, Wal2ka
asked for them back.

129
White Balloon

We decided to call a 24-hour locksmith and was just two blocks

away, the doorman gave us his information. In less than 20 minutes, a
very kind gentleman arrived with his backpack of work tools. I told the
doorman that it had been a long time since we were trying to locate
him and in the building surveillance, we could not see whether Wal2ka
had left the building or returned to his apartment after his trip to Oxxo.

I asked the locksmith to open the door of the apartment; the

doorman radioed his boss requesting authorization, who did not
objection. The locksmith a difficult time opening the door because of
the lock that Wal2ka had put on his main door, he always assumed that
it was for maximum security.

Meanwhile, the neighbor's party was raging. How ironic is life,

while I was dying of terror thinking that the worst possible thing had
happened to my best friend, less than ten meters away were the voices
of some people who were happy celebrating something completely
different.

When the locksmith finally opened the door lock, the apartment
was totally dark; there was only the moonlight that entered through the
huge windows that covered the two floors. I looked towards the stairs
that connected to the main bedroom, I looked up and I could see
Wal2ka in a place where it was impossible to easily get to. When I was
about to enter I felt like a hand was taking me by the arm, when I
turned around, I saw that it was the doorman of the building who
approached me to say: “If you enter it is at your own risk,” I pushed
him to the side as I ran . When I was going up the stairs, I saw Picco
and Mau coming running behind me, I motioned them to stop. I
climbed the stairs as fast as I could and when I got to where he was,
his eyes were at level with mine. I am 10 centimeters taller than
Wal2ka, which meant that his body was floating at that same distance
from the floor. It was like arriving at the gates of hell and my best
friend was waiting for me, welcoming me.

I touched him to see if he was still alive, but there was nothing
that could be done. I climbed a few more stairs to the bedroom, took

130
 White Balloon

one of the sheets off his bed, and decided to cover him so that nobody
else saw him like that, and there, in that moment, I saw that he had
used two belts to end his life, one of his and one of mine.

I went down the stairs with great regret and walked towards the
entrance of the apartment where Picco, Mau, El Charrito, José Luis,
the doorman and the locksmith were, all waiting for me with worried
looks on their faces, Sebastian disappeared.
Meanwhile, the noisy party continued in the neighbor's house, and
I could clearly hear how the guests sang an Eric Clapton song all
together:

Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure

And I know there'll be no more

Tears in heaven…

THE END.

131
White Balloon

132
White Balloon

133
White Balloon

134
White Balloon

135
White Balloon

AUTHOR'S NOTES
The author has accompanied his writing process with some stanzas of the
following soundtrack:

Livin´ La Vida Loca, L. Gómez E/ D. Child/ D. Rosa

Atomic, Deborah Harry/J. Destri / M. Chapman
Me and my Monkey, R. Williams/Guy Chambers
Todo cambia, Julio Numhauser
Canción del elegido, Silvio Rodríguez
Limón y sal, Julieta Venegas
How can you mend a broken heart?, B./ R. Gibb
Vals Olímpica, José Herrera
Him, Rupert Holmes
My Way, Paul Anka
Forever Young, Alphaville
Don’t Stop Me Now ,Freddie Mercury
Vogue, Madonna, Shep Pettibone
I Will Survive, Freddie Perren/D.Fekaris
No Women No Cry, Bob Marley/Vicent Ford
El Diablo en el cuerpo, Illy Keller, Carlos Robledo, Walter Schmidt.
El Triste, Roberto Cantoral García
The Bare-necessities, Terry Gilkyson
Guantanamera , José Martí/José Fernández D.
Son de la loma, Miguel Matamoros
Veinte Años, María Teresa Vera
Always, Vince Clarke, Andy Bell
Tears in heaven, Eric Calpton

Intervention of other texts:

In the chapter "Madame Blavatski" mention is made of the book A Martyr of

the nineteenth century, Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, founder of the
theosophical society written by Mario Roso de Luna published by the
publisher Berbera Editores.

The stories that were recorded throughout the process of the White Balloon
photographic project and which are mentioned in the chapter “The parallel

136
 White Balloon

stories” were written specifically to document the photographic series, used

for the exhibitions and everything related to the project of Globo Blanco,
own edition, Mexico City, 2011, to avoid copyright conflicts in this novel,
these texts were not shared, only their existence is mentioned.

In the "Illy" chapter, the journalistic information corresponds to Patricia

Peñaloza's note, "Illy Bleeding (1960-2010). Gary Neuman ”published on
November 5, 2010 in his column“ Ruta Sonora ”of La Jornada. The note is
available at: https://www.jornada.com.mx/2010/11/05/opinion/a12o1esp

Also in the "Illy" chapter the seven principles or axioms are mentioned
focusing on the polarity. The Kybalion is a 1908 document that summarizes
the teachings of hermeticism, also known as the seven principles of
hermeticism. Its authorship is attributed to an anonymous group of people
called The Three Initiates.

In the reading of the tarot cards mentioned in the chapter "The tarot card"
describes the roll made by means of the Celtic cross method. To be precise in
the interpretation, information from the book Learn to consult the Tarot de
Hajo Banzhaf published in Editorial Edaf was consulted. For the chapter
“The Fool”, the book Manual of the Divinatory Arts of Luz Aguilar,
Editorial Diana, was consulted. For the "Twenty Years" chapter, the book La
Santería was consulted without the author's name, Editorial Panapo, Libro-
Oferta, Caracas Venezuela.

Photographs: Roberto Carlos Aguirre and Alex Herrera. Illy's photograph

was taken from the informative note of Patricia Peñaloza's note at La
Jornada.

Cover: Painting with title "White Balloon" by the artist Héctor Valdivia.

137
White Balloon

138
White Balloon

139