I’ve notice there are not a lot of Mexicans reading this blog. Good thing, that way, hopefully, I won’t hurt a bunch of feelings.
Ok. This girl:
I know, she is a beautiful little kid… Or was, actually, she’s dead.
The thing most people in my country don’t get is talking about her 24/7 won’t revive her. I know it’s a tragedy; dying at the age of 4 is not fucking fair in any way, and if I could, if it was entirely up to me I’d not just bring her back to life, I’d make every kid under the age of 15 immortal. But I can’t, nobody can.
So, can we please move on? It’s been two fucking weeks already.
I guess I have to start over… Since the point of this wasn’t exactly to end up like an insensitive bitch.
On March 22, Paulette Gebara Farah was (according to reports) kidnapped from her own room. Nine days after that, police founded her dead under her own bed (Don’t look at me; I seriously have no idea why they didn’t search there since day one).
The media is ass crazy about the whole subject. I watch the morning news or at least an hour of them while I get ready for classes. It’s been already… Let me do my math here… 21 days in which at least, half of that hour is entirely devoted to Paulette’s file: Interviews with her parents, babysitters, lawyers, mom’s personal trainer and possible lover… It’s like a depressive version of E! News Live.
The sad fact here (or saddest fact, should I say) is that I live in a place where we really have to manage our media coverage. There’s so much shit happening just here: drug dealers being caught, drug dealers killing people in revenge for the ones who got caught, (actual) kidnappers, earthquakes, our cellphone service getting cancelled because we didn’t register our lines on time…
Seriously, if there’s a country who can’t afford to stop for a little rich girl is Mexico.