A new year…

It’s easy to get caught up in our own lives, to make plans, to never think of the impossible.  On the night of the 31^st of December, our household, as well as all the neighbors, were celebrating.  There were fireworks and hugs and greetings all around.  Even a few effigies were burned.  And we brought in the new year. 

From our apartment windows, I can see the Pan-American Highway.  It provides a pathway for a variety of people and means of transportation.  In any given 5 minute interval, one can see people crossing the world’s longest street, people alighting and boarding combis, collectivos and taxis, see someone peddling a cart full of goods, hear a bus or truck rumble by, the honking of horns, the screeching of breaks, the calls of neighbors, and smell exhaust. 

Yesterday afternoon, I sat reading on our sofa while Igor was busy at the hospital.  Suddenly, the volume of noise outside grew and I looked out to see a swarm of perhaps 40 or 50 people gathered near the highway near our corner.  “What is going on?” I asked myself.  I was soon to discover that a young boy (perhaps 8 or 9 years old) from our block had been playing with water balloons and had stepped onto the highway, been hit by a vehicle that had done its best to slam on its breaks, but the boy went flying and lost his life.  Two women wailed uncontrollably, trying to rush out onto the street.  Men held them back.  Other curious onlookers and gossipers gathered round.  Traffic piled up.  And then, less than a half an hour later, as quickly as the commotion had begun, it vanished as though nothing had happened. 

I’ve seen other accidents nearby.  I witnessed one moto-taxi driver go flying to his death.  Fortunately, I didn’t see the accident occur yesterday.  But moments like this come like interruptions to our dreams, calling us back down to earth, reminding us that nothing in permanent. “Wasn’t that one of the little boys giggling and lighting fireworks down the street last night?” Igor asked me when he got home.  “It may well have been,” I replied.  While some blame his mother for not having been watching him at that moment and having prevented that accident, I pity that young mother that I do not know.  No one can pay attention to their children 100% of the time.  Miracles happen every day.  We take risks and we survive.  But every once in a while, someone is unfortunate and lives are changed. 

What was celebrated with high hopes of being a great year, has turned into tragedy for some.  The police came today to take pictures and write up a report and the same nosy neighbors turned up to watch.  And the lesson to be gained from all of this… It can happen to anyone.  Life is a gift.  Dance every day and appreciate the little miracles of life.