Ten days later...

What would be seven days, ended up being ten days incommunicado amid those abandoned children, counting only the little we had to offer.  In the middle of that expedition I ended up joining more with the other people of that organization and already at the end of the trip to Guinea, we formed a family of multiple nationalities , but with the same goal: to help others. 

— Dalia, we are going to Mali to help more children, if you want to go with us. – says Richard, the English doctor responsible for that action.  He finishes storing his portable kit and faces me. —What do you think?

—That’s fine with me. You will, Leo? - I ask my friend.

—No, we have to go back to Lac Rose, but if you want to go, I’m sure it will be important to you .– says Leo.

—Then I’ll go. - I mean, excited.

When we returned to Dakar, I only had time to pack another suitcase and sit on the computer to send an email to Carlos:
__________________________________________________________________
To: Carlos
Cc:
Cco:
Subject: Africa

Hi, love.
I’m alive, whole, and dying to miss you…
When are you coming to visit?

I love you.

Dália Penedo Salazar 
________________________________________

I take my suitcase and kiss Leo, who stares at me, worried:

—Are you sure you will? 

—Absolute.- answer. — Even more.

—Take care, Dalia.  It’s serious.

I was surprised by Leonor’s request, but I didn’t care.  I went to the car, where four more were waiting for me: Richard, the English doctor.  Aidê, Mexican volunteer.  Abigail and João Miguel, a couple of Portuguese who have lived in Africa for many years.  Everyone stared at me , nervous.

— Are you sure you really want to go? - asks Richard, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

—Of course yes. - I answer. —Why the question?

— Dalia… Mali is at war and there is very dangerous… very dangerous indeed.  We do not know what our chances are of returning to Dakar.- explains João Miguel.
— Do you really want to go to Mali? - asks Richard again. —This is your opportunity to give up.

I look out of the car, thinking. Until I got in the car, I saw that trip as another learning experience, nothing that was at risk for my life. Now I may never see Leo, Stephen, my family, friends, X and Carlos again… But I’ve never been to give up anything… and that won’t be the first time. I smile at Richard and say:

—Yes, I will go.

***

I thought that nothing could overcome the suffering of Guinea, until I arrived in Mali. In Guinea, the problem is abandoned children. In Mali, there are people and children who have been amputated by landmines… as a result of the endless war in which they live. Mali is made up of ruins of what would be houses, dirt streets and much poverty. Many still live in houses of clay and straw, equal to tribes. That image only showed me a little of what it really means to be at war. Richard runs until we enter a refugee camp from the war, created by several NGOs's. 

I set up with Aidê and Abigail in a tent and changed clothes, we had work to do. I try not to think that that place can be attacked at any time by criminals who usually want to loot, or even eliminate the refugees.

Let’s go to the tent that turned into an improvised hospital. As soon as I enter, I feel a knot in my stomach: several stretchers with amputated people, marked forever by war. I take a deep breath and walk with the girls, our job was to give emotional support to those people who have lost everything. I sit next to a stretcher, where there is a young woman with one of her arms over her face. I lower my eyes to look for her mark and then notice that she is without both legs. I try not to cry, she does not need pity, but motivation. Today, I understand how difficult it is to give motivation to someone, since you never went through that… 

— Hello. - I say, trying to get the young woman’s attention. Her arm slowly descends, then her eyes appear. They are black, an immensity of darkness and sadness, but still sweet. I smile at her and say in English. — My name is Dalia, what is yours? — Pasua. - says , shy. She covers her legs with the sheet, ashamed. — Pleasure, Pasua. - I say trying to make her focus on me and not her legs. — How are you feeling today? — Well, with less pain. - responds without trying to enlarge the dialogue. — Do you need anything? - I ask. I have no idea what to do to help… I’ve never done that before. —Yes... I want my legs back. - he says, seriously.— Without them, I cannot help my family, and we will starve. My brothers will starve. —Don’t worry, you can help your family in some other way. — I can not, I became invalid, I will only disturb... - Pasua answers, putting his arm in his face. — Get out of here. Yes, my first approach was terrible. I get up and walk, I have many to talk to. I slowly understand how to do and what to say, but it is not easy. Time passed so quickly that when I realized we were already listening to the curfew, remembering the war that was happening outside the camp. We left the “hospital” and returned to the tent, it was time to sleep and try to forget about the images of that first day. I close my eyes, but my mind is still on, remembering all those I saw today.
The next day, more war victims arrived at the camp, making everyone very busy. I never thought it would stop someone’s bleeding so cold. I was always afraid of that kind of thing... changed the channel whenever they showed strong scenes. Now it feels like I’m inside my television, experiencing those terrible moments. Life is teaching me in the most cruel way possible that there are always bigger problems than mine... making the reason I came here so insignificant that I hardly remember the reason that brought me here anymore. 

I could not sleep at night, my mind was filled with the cries of pain and clamor I heard during the day. He always heard two types of cry: Who arrived, asked to live, and who discovered that lost parts of the body asked to die. When I close my eyes, I see those people fighting for the little they still had...

Day after day, we took care of more people who needed all possible support. It was easy to heal the wounds of the body, but that of the soul, these always overcame us. The reports hurt my chest, but kept my face as impartial as possible.

—I felt I was flying... but into the arms of death. - says a gentleman once weeding a plot for his plantation.— When I came back to earth, all I felt was burning my knees... when I touched them, I realized I had no knees.

The only thing I could conclude in Mali was that it was the most frightening and rewarding experience of my life. 

***
Twenty days later...

When I returned to Dakar, the Dahlia I was died in the camp in Mali. I am a new person, everything has a new meaning for me. Those twenty days traveling made me a better person, less futile, more centered, less materialistic and ultimately more human. Life had a more vivid color after seeing the things I can do and how to help those in need.  I got to Leo’s house and went straight to the phone, needed to talk to Carlos. I called and after a long time, he finally answers:

—  Hi, love. - he says, really.  — All right?

—  Hi, love .- I reply, full of longing for my husband’s voice.  —  I’m fine, I just got back from Mali.

—  How was it there?
—  It was great, love. It’s a unique experience. - I answer, excited. I tell everything I lived in those twenty days.  —  It was all amazing... But it’ll be more when you’re here. I want to live it all with you. I’m sure Africa will change you. And by the way, when you come?

— I’m sorry, Dalia. - Carlos replies, seriously.  —  I won’t be able to leave Portugal anytime soon.  Here at the company I have two vacationing employees, and you know how it is: It always remains for me.

—All right... then come next month. - I mean, hopeful. —  You will love to visit the Pink Lake of the village where Leo and Estevão are building their house.

— Dalia... I can’t promise that. - says Carlos.  —  I need to hang up, I love you. See you soon.

— Bye... I reply by listening to his phone go mute.

Deep down I was already predicting something like this, what surprised me was that I’ve been gone for more than a month, and he didn’t even miss me. I was hoping he’d at least miss me and come get me. I press the phone against my chest, trying to ease the pain I feel in my heart. Then a question pervades my mind: Were we destined to follow different paths?