This country that grows, from the ugliness, to the ugliness.
Nizzar Al Qabbani, The Balkiss poem
Sorry to start with this quote but unfortunately it is how I sense this moments, not only in this city, but in the whole country, and I am not being pessimist, but aware of the situation. I am a citizen that creates country, by paying my taxes, obaying the law, respecting others and always trying to find the common interest, and, what do I receive in change? The horror of a war, the insecurity, the death, the bullets, inocent people killed, the widows and the orphans, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers that cry for the love ones taken from this world in a non-sense and crule violence.
A friend of mine, who lives in another city of Mexico once told me the he loves extreme sports, the he loves to feel the adrenalin on his body, that it is exciting the fear he feels everytime he is climbing up a the side of o mountain, or running down hill on a bike, when he finished talking I told him that no extreme sport can compare with living in this city. Do you really want to know how fear feels? Do you want to feel the adrenalin of knowing you might not return home in the afternoon after your work day? Come and live in Juarez. Don't come just a couple of days, don't go shopping to the others side. Live, work, walk on this streets everyday, you will run by soldiers, police men and hatchet men, young killers, almost kids, watch their faces and hands that bearly can pick up a weapon. You will realice that they don´t know anything about laws, nor human values and you will see it is like no others extreme sport.
My personal history is no different from the many others in this city. On December the 18th of 2000 my 21 year old brohter was kidnap and one week later (The worst week of our lives) he was found death on a waste land south of the city with a bullet in his head. I had to go to the forensic's office to identify the body, I saw him, motionless, with all the signs of torture, bruises on his arm, legs, face...and that smell, that stench was unbearable, like the smell of the whole city on this times...I couldn´t resist, I vomit, on my shoes, on the shoes of the doctor. Since that year of 2000 my mom, my dad, my sister and myself no longer have a good mental health. We are always watching our backs, pretending that everything is fine and trying to have a "normal" life, always hoping that justice to my brother will be served. Pretending in front of our children and grandchildren that everything is right...just for them. Of course the killer or killers of my brother are still there, free. I have try not to socialize with strangers because seems like I see the face of the people that killed my brother. Sometimes life can make you feel sick, but the worst part is when other people makes you feel that way. We have lost so many in the last couple of years, love ones, relatives, friends...all beause of the violence.
2008 and 2009 have been terrible, even more than 2000. Every death that the make headlines reminds me of my brother's. Whatever the reasons, no one deserves to die that way.
I don't know what is going to be of this city and country (don´t even know what is going to be of myself and my mental health) with all this nonstop violence, but I can imagine this city with a strong stench.
I hope for justice, and that is what keep us alive and mentally well.
La Archiduquesa del Bravo
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