Our memories makes us realise we barely change. To evolve maybe is to accept we usually have different perceptions.

For so many years I have not spoke to my my dear friend Petlis. Pet is from HongKong and we studied at the Hofstra in Long Island in NY. At that time I was there, the year was 2001.

Talking after more than 10 years we laughed a lot. I realised that we have changed almost nothing, even thinking that we have evolved with the lessons, the losses and the aging. 🙂 So we laugh because we talk in Whatsapp in the same style of the past. It has been been many years that we have not talked and we had no face and Whatsapp talks before.

Pet came here to Brazil and I went to HongKong many years ago. We went to college together, to see Paris and London. That happened many years ago.

Pet reminded me that in HongKong I got sick from eating. I did not remember that.

When I told my grandmother who is 94 and she remembered that. She said I had a fever and I was more impressed that Pet and my grandmother remember it. My grandma told me that for over 10 years ago I had been impressed that Pet’s father had bought hundreds of movies, and books for me to see.

My grandmother telling me now and listening to Pet now, it made me remember it. Comes to my memory her house that I stayed in Hongkong. The bed I sat down and laid down as Pet’s father thought and saying I should rest before going out.

I remember now. Films in English, German, French and in other languages that I did not know. I did not know what languages they were. They were all in a Western style.

Today I understand. Having have traveled so often to Asia, I have become accustomed to seeing in letters that do not make sense to many Westerners people. So it was not easy for Pet’s father to give me books and movies.

Imagine how we could by for someone from Laos, from Vietnam, Burma, China, Thailand. 🙂 Of course in their language. So that made me realise how was wonderful kindness of Pet’s fathers had been to me.

It reminded me that I learned not to drink cold water there. I learned to drink tea. And to this day I do not like to drink anything cold. I had never realised where it came from.

And I love tea and coffee. And she tells Pet and my grandmother that I have not eaten for days and I did not remember that too. I know that here in Ubatuba in Brasil, now when I was feeling ache in my stomach and going a lot to the toilet to poop. I just stoped eating.

I resolved to be without

eating one day. I took

juice and fruits on the second day and on the third day I ate a little. So I feel super well.

When I talked to Pet, I laughed a lot. We laugh a lot because of what I remember with her, she does not remember and I do not remember what she remembers. This is deep friendship. Instead of defending yourself and saying it’s different. It is to accept that our perceptions are always different for a thousand of reasons.

When we abandon our vanity to think that we always know better, we begin to laugh and and have gratitude to return to memories and to understand that we always pay attention to different things.

Also here came to me my friend Angela who I also had not seen for a long time and just to see us together, we return to speak with the accent we invented in Itaunas, in Brasil before 2001.

How wonderful it is to return from the contacts of the past. Sundelly came to my mind my friend Maya, who is from Israel.

We met in Asia and I went to her house about 6 years ago in Israel. Now she’s a mother. She’s still with the same boyfriend I met, and I remember that so much.

I confess about my coma losses that makes me forget a lots of things. I tell her I wonder we had gone for them to buy a house on Israel’s border with Lebanon. I remember I was shocked that day. I tell her maybe my memory is a mistake.

She sends me a message on the face and she llaughs. And she says I did not change anything and she remembers this house that I had said was not a good idea.

I think it has a deep feeling. We do not forget.

Yesterday I went to buy a book for my grandmother who loves to read every day. I looked, I looked, I looked and when I saw here in Ubatuba a book of my favorite writer. Instead of buying a new one, I found a book by Dostoevsky.

Writing here I laugh. I love the Brothers Karamasov so much. I did not buy this book because my grandmother knows about it very well. I book another one by him.

I get one and I take a look and I see the story of Dostoyevsky. I knew he had been in jail. I knew he had written many books, I knew there was epilepsy in his book that I love. But I did not know Dostoyevsky was Epileptic.

It made me understand his books much more. His last book is what I love the most. Reading his story made me to see how much his life is there.

I write this laughing because we do not change anything. I still love the same things. Talking and seeing the same things.

My friend Lama Lobsang said that our greatest enemy was our best friend. They were ourselves. It is logical that the people closest to us know our reality better, but by their perceptions.

When we confront what they think they say we are, we become unhappy or angry. I have realized that we imagine that we have changed a lot. The hard part is to accept that we do not change much. Our qualities are the same, and our mistakes are the same.

Maybe evolving is to accepting the perceptions of others and the one of our greatest enemy is the same. It is ourself.

We should have less fear and make a path in the path we believe we are helping all the people in the world.

Rewriting is interesting. Suddenly I come Back to writing it is interesting. Suddenly I am coming back. Writing is interesting. Suddenly things come to my mind.

I remember that Dr Getulio use to tell me that I should write about things about my epileptic that we knew nothing what it came from. To tell how I felt.

Dr. Getulio was my dear doctor with whom I always had conflicts about our ideas.

Dr Getulio died of running. He had a heart attack and went to the hospital and, like me, he was in a coma, but he did not come back.

Dr. Getulio always used to say that every epileptic seizure would make my brain be destroyed.

The first epileptic seizure happen when I was in Morocco, at the house of my friend Mounia (Moon).

There are three people from Morocco who are very important in my life.

Mounia, Leila and Mustapha. Mounia is a great artist, Leila an incredible photographer and Mustapha an incredible teacher in my life. He did the “decolonizing the mind” that class meant a lot to me till today.

I met the 3 in Long Island in NY. I went to college at Hofstra and had won a scholarship from Ibeu.

I arrived 10 days before 9 11. Even in Long Island I could hear the explosion.

That changed me a lot. My friends from Morocco had to explain that they were not terrorists. All students from Muslim countries had to explain and I became more interested in learning what was going on in the Middle East.

I ended up winning another Hofstra scholarship to study international politics in Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

There I met Haiko. Haiko was my first husband. Even today he is my friend. The separation I invented to abandon my doctorate which was at the LSE in London. My doctorate was about Israel and Palestine. I l left and went to travel.

Before my doctorate and master’s degree I lived in London and I went to Morocco to know the country of my friends.

Mounia arranged an incredible trip for me Haiko and our friend Adriana to go to the Sahara desert. It was amazing.

We went to other beautiful places together like Marrakech, Rabat, Casablanca, but Haiko and Adriana had to go back to work and I decided to stay to know the city that Felipe had told me it was beautiful.m

Felipe had won the same scholarship and it was he who wrote me to go to Hofstra. Me as a spoiled person I even though I might not want to go. Felipe inspired me to go to US.

He had gone to Morocco many years before I went. He had loved and told me that it was beautiful Chefchaouen.

I went and loved it. I met two Spanish gentlemen who were shocked that I was traveling alone. They bought things from Morocco and sold it in Spain.

I explained that it was regular to me to travel alone since I was young woman. In any case they offered to give me a ride to go to Spain.

I did not even know it learned that Spain had land in Africa. I accepted the offer.

The lords were very nice to me and made me see many places until I reached the border. I crossed to Ceuta. When I got in the car, no one from the border looked at me. They just looked at my passport.

I was sad and shocked by Celta. I stayed at the hotel and returned on foot to return to Morocco. Then I saw what I have already written and I will never forget.

Too many queues but they sent me to the front. Africans returning to Africa with the face of sadness. The dream of having a a better life in Europe destroyed. When I crossed I went to see those who tried to cross to Europe with the dream of improve their life.

I took a taxi. At the border there were many of them. And I did not even know where to go. I went from town to town and returned to Marrakech.

I saw my friend Leila, I saw Mounia. We walk. And suddenly from my last days in Morocco I go to sleep and I started feeling electricity in the body. Never had it before. It comes in the body and goes up. It made me feel run from myself.

There is no escape from yourself. And suddenly it goes to the head and I fall in the bed where I was already.

Without have ever having been sick in Morocco. Never having been sad or angry. I was in the place of my friends and everything was perfect in my trip.

I remember when I woke up and told Moon she told the lady who worked there . She prayed in a Moroccan way. I spoke to the doctor and did not think it was anything.

Mounia and Leila were my college friends. Mounia came to my first marriage in Holland. Leila lived with me in NY. Mustapha has always made me think of decolonizing the mind. I worked with him in college.

In my first coma Leila would call me to help me to speak French again. Mustapha wanted to know what was happening to me. On my second marriage to my love André, Leila came here to Brazil.

I got married in September 2015. Leila was killed in Ouagadogou in January 2016. Dr Getulio died in February 2016. And I went to the hospital again. I felt bad. They did not know what it was. They thought it was Vasculitis. They gave me cortisone. And I went to Burma alone. Andre and I moved to Peru and again I felt sich and I go to Brasil and I am induced to Coma in Brasil. This time without Dr Getulio and Leila.

I tell all this to say that Dr Getulio searched for years and died doing what he loves. Leila was doing what she loves.

Felipe a great filmmaker is making a movie about Leila now.

Written all this is to tell that we do not know much about our life. The most important thing is to give value to all our actions.

I hope we can all do what we believe is the best not only for us, for the world.

I hope people understand that people have different perceptions. We are all are going to depart from our lifes.

We need to be less afraid. And accept how the path is. Even with my great longing for Leila and Getulio I know they died doing what they love and thinking about the others.