Información

Sábelo. Yo no tengo nada.

Mis brazos son lo único que ofrezco

Te doy este espacio en mi pecho

y el retumbar de la mañana.

Sin título

Tú, el vaivén de la marea.
Yo, a la espera, bajo el agua
sueño playas inundadas,
que venga la noche
y ser para tí, arena.

2011

The last day of the year one should take a minute to think of those things done, the ones omitted, the ones repeated. 

I started 2011 taking the decision to turn my life around: I applied to the University of Haifa in Israel. The decision to change my life was difficult  in itself, but doing so turned out to be so complicated it seemed I would never make it. How do we get caught up in our own lives it’s nearly impossible to leave vicious loops within them?

The first part of the year went by in waiting and wishing, months of uncertainty build up to the point of nearly giving up.

Experiencing failure is one thing, experiencing rejection is character building, but experiencing failure, rejection and massive disappointment in a short time, I can assure you, will mess with your head. By the time July showed up on my calendar I was standing empty-handed  in front of the image of what I wanted to be and the image of a person, so hollow, I wished I would just disappear.

What am I doing that is so wrong? The recurrent question.

At that point the only smart thing I did was to turn the people I love most. I was overwhelmed, alone and drowning in my own aimless actions, it seemed so odd for me to seek refuge in the people I cared for, and it was very surprising to find that most times I only needed to be able to ask for help. It was because I’m lucky enough to love people around me and be loved back -many times undeservedly- that I got the necessary  strength to push through the last months of the admission process to the university and the bureaucracy attached to it.

Asking for help is what I learned from 2011, in the sense of identifying what I need and then expressing it in an appropriate way so people actually understand what it is I’m asking of them.

Such a simple thing… I got to stretch out my hand and reach one of my dreams because I asked for help, and I’m so grateful for it.

 

La víspera del viaje a Jerusalem

Leo.

La teoría del conflicto me quita el sueño, me deja pensando, me reta a no saltar al cinismo.

Mañana por la mañana saldremos a Jerusalem a encontrarnos con gente de todos frentes, y me emociono.

Hace días que espero que este viaje llegue. He leído, pero sé que el camino me dará mucho más que las solas letras, y que siempre en las palabras de otros es de donde termino aprendiendo lo más valioso. Pero por hoy, y en la expectativa, me refugio en las letras de mi libro. Limpio con cuidado el lente de la cámara y miro desde el escritorio la cama.

Todo queda preparado. Estoy solo a un click de ojos.

 

© Bilhá Calderón

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Latinoamerica

Una maravillosa canción que resume las alegrías y dolores de nuestros hermanos pueblos.

Día de Muertos in Israel

I woke up this morning feeling like a train would hit me. It is Dia de Muertos in Mexico, a day when remember our loved ones that have passed, and I didn’t have anything prepared for the people who have died in my family.

 

My cousin Eliú passed away  in 2010 after being diagnosed with cancer, it was like one day he had it and the next day he was gone. He was 34 and we loved him so, his death was devastating to our family.

 

Grandpa was ill and all we wanted for him was for him to pass away in the same dignified way that he had lived his life, but the last months of his illness were terrible. My biggest fear was that he might die alone, not knowing where he was, that he might die not knowing he was among the people who loved him. When he did pass he was sound asleep, peacefull, with no signs of struggle, so we had what we wanted.

So this day was important to me, not just to keep up with my country’s traditions, but to cope with the pain of what my loved ones’ absence changed in my own life. I got up, went to the supermarket in my PJs,
stole soil ad flowers from the neighbours and went home to set up a tiny ofrenda. The mandatory things are: water, soil, salt, flowers and an allusion to death, and its purpose is to lead the dead person’s soul back to its home to be among the living, to feed, to rest and to live through their memory.

An offering can be very simple, such as mine, or very elaborate when it’s strictly traditional. The one below is from a little village called Huaquechula (Mx) where this tiny woman was sitting in her chair in front of her late husband’s ofrenda, waiting for  him to arrive. The dead arrive at 2pm and leave the next day.

 

To mexicans sharing is important. We share everything from food to feelings, we share our happiest moments and our hurts equally loud. So I decided to share my humble ofrenda … which turned the whole experience into something very special and much more beautiful than I ever would have expected.

I shared it with you.

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El mediterraneo

Despedida.

Sin saberlo, sin intuirlo siquiera, se van los días acercando a la partida.

Salgo a buscar a una señal, algo de aire que me llene los pulmones, que me quite esta sensación naufragada.

Miro el cuaderno donde debo anotar mis pendientes y me aplastan sus hojas. Las páginas se doblan donde escribiste tu nombre para mí, donde me pides que te encuentre.

 

Me voy, ya casi estoy allá contigo.

Saluden al Ramiro!

Mi Ramiro me ayuda a remodelar el blog demandando un mínimo de atención.