When the yellow duck bites.
Autor: Leti | Publicado: 2016-04-18T05:24:00-03:00





The anti-democratic duck, a real thing in Brazil.

The loneliest hours of my day are when Brazil is not yet awake. With a 5-hour difference in timezones, it's only after my lunch that my country wakes up. As I've always loved mornings, I'm up around 7:30. Make my coffee, scroll through news and e-mails and feel like sharing my opinion with someone, although no one is there.



The green ball in the Facebook messenger is very misleading. It shines beside the name of a close friend and I ask myself what is s-he doing up? As I click it, it's a ruse. They are all sleep. I'm virtual and alone.



When my country is reaching for their phones, I'm in the middle of my day and don't have time to talk. On Satudays, when I can't hold it, I get this sleepy good-morning followed by a traditional&nbsp;can't we talk later? . But it's never later enough in Brazil. Not to talk to me, not to overrun a democratic elected president.



And of all mornings, that right now my Brazil is sleeping, it's unbearable. I'm passing my eyes around the political earthquake, at the same time that I'm mourning my dearest Ecuador, and the total sum of Latin American-related news makes me miserable.



I honestly didn't believe stupidity and greed could drive people further than love. I refuse to believe it. I recall the letter Luiz Eurico, one of our tortured &amp; killed by those usurping power, left to his wife.&nbsp;I feel&nbsp;sorry for all of them, Suzana.&nbsp;For those who lie, for the uptight, for the greedy, for&nbsp;those who made a pill, a hobby, a&nbsp;business, a&nbsp;palliative out of love. (... ) They don't understand that we seek, ultimately, the ideal conditions for love.&nbsp;



It touches me, but I can't feel sorry for them just now. I'm broken.&nbsp;I'm crying as I leave my ex-boyfriend a much less inspiring message.&nbsp;democracy is over, bonito. I'm not coming back.



Yep, I can't hold back tears. For ten years I've been an activist in Brazil. And in one day, they have set us back many decades. What's the real currency of money? What is my country, if not a private beach club? 45 million out of poverty and, as a revenge against it, 200 million stripped out of a future.&nbsp;



I see yesterday's posts, as I go along my timeline to find out that among my over a thousand friends, less than ten were for the coup.&nbsp;



The others were fighters. And they're all sleeping now, as I write this.



They deserve to sleep, after all.



They've been fighting for weeks, for years, for democracy. They were out on the streets, shouting for a president they didn't believe in, for a social legitimacy, that of the vote, in which they did. They were fighting for social justice and human rights. When they wake up, they will fight again.&nbsp;



They're stronger than me. I'm not coming back. And now there will always be five hours, a wall out of time, against us. As if I were five hours ahead, as if it's possible to be ahead in a game in which the rules change according to whom is rolling the dices.



My grandma has told me so many times how it is like to be taken to a torture center. I recalled thinking she was telling me about the past, not the future. They broke down families, they hunted down persons, they slaved peasants. They've made god ashamed of his own name. Now they claimed to be voting for them. The very ones that didn't respect our vote in the first place.



I've left for only three months, and already Brazil has been stolen from me. By the very same people who have stolen it from my grandma. It's a cycle of women deprived of their country: my grandma, Dilma and I.



When my friends finally wake up, they will remind me to fight. To keep fighting, to blur the five hours into a five-step plan of action. They will bring me, in the middle of afternoon, a new morning to start with.&nbsp;



Up to that, I'll drink my Brazilian coffee, try to breathe and remember Audre Lorde's quote. I'm not &nbsp;only a casualty. I'm also a warrior.&nbsp;



I will wait for my friends to get up, and we will take our country back. In five hours or in five years. Democracy is not built overnight. It won't be destroyed either. Not without a fight.