Professional Documents
Culture Documents
F White Balloon
F White Balloon
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WHITE
BALLOON
By: T2S1
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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
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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
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“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.
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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
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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.
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...
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II. NANDA
(Tell me how you have fun and I’ll tell you who you are)
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
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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.
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V. MADAME 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?
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
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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.”
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and become one of her bedside books. From that day on, I would
jokingly call her "Madame Blavatsky".
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.
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
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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.
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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.
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.
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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:
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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.
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
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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
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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
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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.
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VII. D’ANGELO
(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.
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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.
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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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VIII. WAL2KA
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?
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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.
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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…”
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IX. KITTY
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.
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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
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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.
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and clear that in that moment I accepted that the White Balloon project
had only been a life experience.
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PART TWO
Winston Churchill.
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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”
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.
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.
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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
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“The important thing isn’t what they’ve done about us, but what we do with
what they’ve done about us”.
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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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
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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.
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
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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.
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
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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.
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.
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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.
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XIII. ILLY
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.
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
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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.
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
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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
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.
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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.
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“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:
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.
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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.
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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.
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:
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
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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."
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
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six in the afternoon we said goodbye and later met around nine at night
to go for dinner.
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
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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.
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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
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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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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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,”
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were different animals and a child, and the whole story told us about
the basic rules of life: "The laws of the jungle."
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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".
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“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.
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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.
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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."
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“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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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...
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(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.
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
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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.
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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.
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taking a new path, I went through the interview process and a couple
of weeks later I was selected for the position.
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.
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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.
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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...
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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”.
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“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.
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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."
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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
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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
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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:
THE END.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
The author has accompanied his writing process with some stanzas of the
following soundtrack:
The stories that were recorded throughout the process of the White Balloon
photographic project and which are mentioned in the chapter “The parallel
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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.
Cover: Painting with title "White Balloon" by the artist Héctor Valdivia.
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