ebony skin
Not many years before under the tree had changed my life.
It was a long time that I was thinking more in the moment. I was amazed to see that this was the why I was still there, why I decided to do the job by putting the soul.
That scene come to mind instantly, clear and sharp, as if it happened only yesterday.
I was separated from the group to take a stroll and relax at least five minutes. In that situation was not at all easy. There was to be done constantly, never a moment of peace, never a quiet night in which to place his head without thinking and sleep soundly.
Like every day, the sun was high in the sky and hit my head, covered by an unnecessarily kind of hat that I had given a baby a few days before. The heat was impressive and I clung to the sweat on him giving me a feeling of suffocation unbearable. I looked around, well I opened the nostrils to smell the air and felt something cool and pleasant, like the smell of the sea. It was not possible: the sea, the ocean was hundreds of miles away. However, I decided to take the direction from which it came and in an instant I found myself in a clearing a channel through which flowed, probably created for the irrigation of small fields of corn. Courses on the bank and dipped their hands in surrender warm from the heat. I threw it him several times, hoping to wash away the sweat that I cloaked, but it was only a temporary remedy. He felt, however, for a brief moment, a refreshing sensation on the gentle breeze that strangely for those parts, was pulling.
It was then that I looked up and saw her.
A little girl in the distance was rocking on his knees under an acacia tree. His head was bent over something he held in his arms, but I could not understand what it was. The long black braids hung down along the chest and hid their faces. I went over and felt that he was sobbing. She could have been yes and no 13 years. He was so thin that his bones stuck out all over the body and the sole of his feet clear light her skin the color of ebony. He wore only a skirt of straw and a long beaded necklace and cumbersome.
Now I was close enough. I only felt a tear, that of the girl, the baby she was carrying was motionless, in silence. I ran to her and instinctively snatched the baby from her arms. She began to scream louder and said something in Wolof I did not understand her big eyes looking at me with desperate blacks. I tried to do a little gentle pressure on the sternum of the child, but I was too inexperienced. Without thinking too rushed to the village with that little body in his arms and the girl who ran after me. She had stopped screaming. Maybe he knew I wanted to help her, but felt my fear, my frustration and trembling. I took the baby to my camp and the doctor, when he saw me get out of breath, I ran. She took the baby from her arms, laid it on a table and tried to revive him. He tried several times, but now there was nothing to do. Only then I noticed the girl better and I realized I was bleeding. No, it was just blood, there was something else. Placenta. He had just given birth. That newborn baby was her son. As I did not realize it before? The girl had eyes glazed, staring. He seemed to observe the bed, but actually staring into space. It was not a carefree little girl, she was a young woman who learned early on to address the injustices of life. He lowered his face and fainted. I picked her up immediately el'adagiai gently on another couch. I felt the salty taste of the tears streaming down my face. It was then that I decided what to do. I would not be broken down after three weeks. I had to stay there. In Senegal.
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