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.