which I don’t believe for a second. Juan is a Spanish name, you know, but I just said… “Okay, where are we going, Juan?” And he said, “Al Corazón del Mundo”.’
‘The heart of the world… How lovely; he meant his wife?’
‘Actually, that’s what I thought too, but it wasn’t. I rode for what must have been an hour, blindfolded, on a bony donkey that climbed upwards though the jungle. I was glad when we got to a suspension bridge where he took off the blindfold and let me get off.’ Vera stopped talking and smiled inwardly at the memory. There was a long silence.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Cissi and looked at her, curious.
‘“Your trust is good,” he said. “That is good. Without it, you are alone and an easy target.’” Vera took a bite of her baguette. After a while she continued. ‘From the bridge I was allowed to walk; we continued upwards until we got to a village with round huts. We ran the last bit.’
Cissi swallowed the last bite of her baguette. ‘How were they?’
‘The village midwives had just got the boy out, feet first, just using their hands. It was fantastic.’
‘Was he alive?’
‘Yes, the son was okay. But the mother was bleeding a lot.’
‘Uh-oh… not good…’
‘No, you could say that I got there just in time. Juan translated what I said for the midwives, told them what I wanted to do to save her. They knew what stitches were, and they let me give her anesthesia and stitch her up where she had torn.’
Cissi squirmed like a worm on a hook; her sharp inward breath whistled between her teeth. ‘Did it work?’
‘I managed to stop the bleeding. She survived the evening and the night anyway, and I gave her our best antibiotics. I think she will have survived, so long as nothing unexpected happened.’
She had barely eaten anything and Cissi was finished. Vera took another bite and waved her baguette in the air. ‘This is what happens if you talk all the time!’
‘But the things you’ve gone through! What happened after that?’
‘They were very kind. The next morning Juan came and woke me up; I was supposed to go with his father-in-law. Later, when I got home to Sweden and searched online for information about the Kogi people, I understood that he was their Kogi Mama, shaman and leader. The old man took me to a lookout point and pointed and talked. I stood there – I had just woken up; the sunrise was fantastic… The jungle spread out over majestic mountains, crops far down in the valley and the turquoise ocean all the way at the bottom. And yet, what I remember most is his face… completely lined. You know, beautifully old and dignified, but worried like a child. And I tried to listen. “This is our work, our responsibility,” I think I got about half of what he said, but later I saw a film on the internet, and I understood what he was talking about – From the Heart of the World, The Elder Brothers’ Warning.’
‘El Corazón del Mundo was actually the place?’
‘Yeah. The Kogi say that their Sierra Nevada is the heart of the world, that they are older brothers and the rest of us are ignorant little brothers and sisters. They feel a responsibility to maintain the balance in the world and… protect the river of life, but now they can’t do it alone any more. El corazón enfermo, the mountain that is the heart of the world, is sick. What he pointed at wasn’t the beauty that I first saw; it was spots of bare earth at the foot of the mountain and clear-cut areas that were like sores on the side of the mountain. Since ancient times the Kogi have lived in balance with Mother Earth, but we little brothers and sisters don’t understand anything; we dig her to pieces and destroy her. He said that we live in a new time. And if the mountain dies, then the whole world will die. And she is critically ill; the river of life is weak.’
‘River of life? What was he talking about? Something spiritual?’ Cissi’s big eyes shone.
‘Maybe, but I think he was mainly talking about the water; that’s how I understood it later. When the water doesn’t flow like it should…’
‘I get it,’ Cissi said and looked worried. ‘Climate change. The glaciers are melting; the tundra is drying out, too little water in the rivers.’
‘Yes. Kogi Mama described it as Mother Earth is sick and the world is out of balance. “When death comes to the top of the world, it continues downward too.” And it isn’t just superstition. They have problems with their harvests; they’re finding it harder and harder to feed everyone.’
‘Yeah, it’s scary how dependent we are on one another, how much we influence one other. And them too, even though they’ve tried to hide themselves on a mountain,’ said Cissi thoughtfully.
‘Mmm… When I did some more online research I found a coalition of Indigenous Americans. There was stuff about Koyaanisqatsi, and then everything fell into place. I understood that I had been given a task that morning with the Kogi Mama.’
‘Koyanis… what did you say?’
‘Koyaanisqatsi. It’s a word in Hopi that means life out of balance – an insane, unsustainable lifestyle.’
Cissi considered Vera over her teacup. ‘Oh. You think you got an assignment, a mission?’
‘Kogi Mama asked me, “Little brothers and sisters, what are you doing?”‘
Cissi looked quietly at Vera, thinking, before she finally said, ‘A big question.’
‘Yes. And what we’re doing has to do with money, so now I need to study economics.’
Cissi smiled crookedly, ‘But that clear-cut area he asked about, maybe it was to grow drugs?’
‘Yeah, most likely. Forty years of war, millions of refugees, everything seems to be about controlling the drug trade.’
‘Listen, that guerrilla attack, how did you manage to survive it?’
Vera felt a tingling sensation through her body. How many times had she brooded over all those questions. Did anyone survive? Eliza? Pierre? Stuart? Camilla? Was it a difficult end? Why was I spared? How can I repay the debt?
Vera swallowed. ‘Pure luck. I was in bed, but awake. We girls slept upstairs, and that gave me a little time. I jumped out of the window, hurt my knee, hit my head on the side of the building and fainted. I was found later by some colleagues from town who came when they couldn’t contact us.’ She shivered again, down to the bone. Violent strangers had kidnapped the people who had become her closest friends, and she had lain there, injured and helpless, in the dark, protected by a small tuft of grass.
‘What about the others?’
‘The guerrillas took them. They’re still missing. Maybe dead in the jungle? I don’t know.’ Vera looked down.
Pure luck. And of course Pierre.
Seven weeks after she had come home to Sweden, it was time for a follow-up appointment with the orthopedic specialist. Vera lay barelegged and freezing
