On the evening of 13 November 2015, a series of coordinated terrorist attacks—consisting of mass shootings, suicide bombings, and hostage-taking—occurred in Paris, the capital of France, and its northern suburb, Saint-Denis. (Wikipedia).
The world has turned his eyes to a rockstar-celebrity city. The love city, the Eiffel Tower city, the city of Edith Piaff and Coco Channel was injured. Details of it can be googled while the live blogs last, and as history keeps track of social media. It is all over the place, and twitter, and instagram. But as fast as some news touch our hearts, they are forgotten.
Today, my heart goes to humanity. One love. One.
My faith goes to life.
I will not extend my thoughts on hatred and fear.
This is what I will do:
I will love more, think of all the people that, at this time, are excited about the next day, that will wake up to dreams and friends to catch up with, cakes at the office, coffees, smiles in their hearts. I will think of all the people that, at this time, are walking with their hands in their pockets and a song in their mind, thinking of calendars with dates and dinners and happy faces.
After the incidents in Paris,underneath the expressed political sympathy, the world’s eyes are open, the red light is on.
They say: fight, rebel, defend, protect, get life insurance.
I say: Think first, love first, open up first, observe first, listen.
Listen to all those that look different but are local. “I am here”, present, and the song in their hearts is theirs, yours, ours, universal. I speak in the name the majority of muslims that are not extremists, the majority of refugees that are being labeled by the things they ran away from, all the dark eyed that just happen to be good people hoping for some peace.
Aurelio’s world hurts me.
But I am Leeloo Dallas Multipass, (from The fifth element-The movie), looking at flashes of war, images and excuses for a small word that is so many others, refusing to feel fear, still believing life is beautiful on one kiss. There is hygge potential poeple, and home just happens to be exactly where you are.
We are all ALL. I was born in Colombia, and as a foreigner, a migrant, an expat, it turns out I am ethnic (different). And all over my eyes and uncontrolled hand expressions and eyebrow movements, I have signs that say: ethnic. Awareness is one of those beautiful irreversible things. I am aware but I wish I didn’t know/feel this. I never saw myself like that. And as the fear towards difference escalates and faith and #prayforparis hashtags lead to religious, cultural, and economic paradigms, stigmas, labels, (and not to the actual people and their individual stories), I wonder: what next? How to stop this eruption of global misunderstanding that runs fast and uhyggelig, creepy, and is just wrong?
I am out of my geographical origin, where my normality was never questioned, and have taken myself to safer places that are still not safe and will never be. I am different in my foreign country and my scars and modified shapes will not fit into any “normal” home-puzzle ever, even if I decided to go back (because the pieces of the concept -home- are broken and can’t be put together again). If I went back home, I will not be normal anymore. Something broke. Living on my migrant label, I wear the shoes that none of the normals that surround me have the possibility to wear. I stand strong and smile and do my best to step outside everyday with all the passion and all the love. I do my best to share and contribute, to not let my city know that I am scared. Because I am.
But most of the time Im just happy. And grateful.
(And getting my hygge on more than ever).
Meet Leeloo Dallas Multipass, the fifth element: