Debris

On September 19, an earthquake hit my state Morelos, several towns were destroyed, thousands of people without homes in less than a minute lost lives, homes, offices, schools. As citizens we dawned different, I saw solidarity as never before, that Mexican spirit that seemed asleep woke up, I'm still in shock, it was like a nightmare, I thought it was the end. After realizing the tragedy, visualize how fortunate we are, who did not lose anything, but how to console those who lost everything. As I write this text my breathing pauses, some tears escape. Being photographer made me embrace, relief, document, help to load, I pretended to be strong by listening  their stories of how they survived and the empty question what follows. When I was in the most damaged place Jojutla, something that caught my attention was the rescue of their belongings, first the photo albums, those objects that protect the memories, the endearing stories. After the saints rescue, the bibles. That religious faith imposed by the Spaniards that in my opinion continues blinding us, but in those moments perhaps it return some of the much credit that it receives, converting the dust that sometimes did not allow us to recognize  among ourselves, so much solidarity.The faith that is so powerful that the wounds became the blood in holy water? Not at all.

The debris brought out many shortcomings, the family that went to a shelter meanwhile was verified if their house was able to be inhabited and it turned out that if they could return to their home however they prefer to stay in the shelter because they receive food , toys, all the possible assistance and more. Or the families that take turns and camp on their land, which was the only thing that their remained, so as not to lose it because the robbery, as usual, prey birds gets fatter in these circumstances. In most of the shelters at all times the food is served from an impressive citizen organization 8 or 10 people some voluntarily  are organized to prepare more than 400 meals daily, with minimal donations, are jointly giving food to those who arrive without import if is damaged, many are not affected but they get benefit.
In a country with a spurious salary is understandable that whole families deal with hunger. See little sad faces of the little ones is nostalgia as I did not know it existed. See how they try to appropriate the place with paintings, with decorations, on their walls, their toys that have been many. Finally the school are open, that place of coexistence, where hopefully  they will be distract from the narrow life of a shelter.
The truth is that they have spent months of unconditional solidarity from all over the world, the ladies say to me with joy: the world do not leave us alone, but the reconstruction is so slow because that corruption burden that lengthens prayers by dwarfing hope.

Hermann Bellinghausen: No quería ojos para ver lo que vi, pero sí sucedieron en la ciudad de mi vida las cosas que vieron mis ojos; no me cambio por nadie y me alegro de estar aquí, entre todos.