Friday, September 19, 2014

Did I save ...Don Sylvestre?

Did he want me to save him?
As much as his broad surprised smile seemed to thank me…after recovering… some long minutes of anxious times for his family… I am still not sure.
After passing out, the old man of 84, already followed for heart and bload pressure problems was back in the hot waters of Aguas Calientes as if nothing had happened, those really hot waters emerging from the ground… that almost had killed him some moments ago.
How weird did it feel to practice CPR techniques again… after 20 years. Each move came back quietly. Hours and hours of repetition during the firebrigade training in Paris, practice under very high levels of stress, in le corp des Pompiers de Paris must have marked my cellular memory for ever: pulse, neck, belt.
5 strokes on the chest, 1 breathing, after having laid him down properly and pushed away stressed and useless air makers around.
This time I was getting a pulse, and soon his breath came back.
His wax skin color started to turn back to normal.
While doing my stuff I was really calm… but some moments after, laying on the grass a wave of sadness hit me. I guess it made me think about my father, same age… realizing how much I did not manage lately to spend valuable, simple time with him, to make peace… and he could him too, just go…like Don Sylvestre…letting the engine … stop!
Without having had a real opportunity to tell him how much I love him and how thankful I am for what I learned with him, perseverance, courage and faith… all under high proof here in Bolivia! 

Especially this roller coaster of a week!
But who am I to think I can save anybody?
What if people don’t want to be saved, or cannot be… they just go when their time is… up?
I am just accepting humbly to serve to the best of my capacities. Accepting work, companionship, encounters… with love… be it an anaconda in the Lagoa I have been crossing at the peer of Puerto Suarez (some stories of anacondas eating cows lately are haunting me!) or this tarantula in front of my door a morning this week!
This combined to a high pollution in the waters stopped my peaceful daily swim, which was such a salvation time!
But a start of sinus infection toped the wild Pantanal stories, and my dream to cross the lake.
I miss the water though, especially in this desert.
The heat hitting Puerto Suarez like a wave of plague and the PILOTO changing every day put me on my knees again so many times this week.

One day… the project would pick up and show its potential....

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