Review - In Order to Live

Original Title: In Order to Live: a North Korean Girl's Journey to Freedom
Series: -
Author: Yeonmi Park, Maryanne Vollers
Published: September 29th, 2015
Publisher: Penguin Press

I will start by saying that this was a hard book to rate. The five stars I gave it are not for the writing or the engaging aspects of it. It’s for the author’s courage to speak out, and expose the grim realities of a world that, for many of us, it’s too far away. Something that happens “to others”.

This story is not like Hyeonseo Lee’s. The Girl with Seven Names is a fantastic account of the hardships a North Korean defector has to go through as a consequence of deciding to leave the country. But Hyeonseo Lee, even though she went through a terrible journey to find freedom, was older than Yeonmi Park when she defected, she had a strong willpower and a rebel streak, and her wit, her resourcefulness and her contacts on the other side helped her to survive. Yeonmi Park, instead, was just a child when she left North Korea with her mother.

“Maybe deep, deep inside me I knew something was wrong. But we North Koreans can be experts at lying, even to ourselves.”

There was a moment in which I considered leaving this book unfinished. The account of Yeonmi’s experience in the terrible, soulless world of human trafficking, was becoming more than I could take. Women sold as a piece of property. Yeonmi’s mother raped twice in front of her. Yeonmi herself abused by her so called Chinese husband. The need to shut off her heart to survive. Her father’s illness after his arrest, and his death before reaching true freedom. Her missing sister, who left for China alone and they spent years without a word from her. The terrible choices she had to make, between she and other women being trafficked, or being returned to North Korea to a fate worse than death. The separation from her family. She saw and experienced things no one should. And much less a child. 

But it’s not enough that she was a child. She was a child from North Korea, no less. Innocence and ignorance are a bad combination, but in this case, no North Koreans are prepared for the world beyond their borders. And human traffickers take advantage of it.

There was so much in this book I wanted to quote. The narration is not meant to be gripping like a thriller book, but it is engaging, raw and honest, like saying “this is reality, and there’s no way around it”. She doesn’t get graphic, but it’s not necessary for us to understand what’s happening.

“There were so many desperate people on the streets crying for help that you had to shut off your heart or the pain would be too much. After a while you can’t care anymore. And that is what hell is like.”

I can’t picture a world in which everything is forbidden. No movies. No music. No phone calls. No education, only indoctrination. And for that, I’m lucky. My country may not be perfect, but it’s free, and sometimes we forget the true value of that. Having grown up with a mind of my own is invaluable. North Korea’s slavery system works through ignorance. Keeping their population utterly oblivious to the world beyond their borders is a part of their strategy to keep them subdued. The only possible love they can feel has to be for the Dear Leader.

“I had a warm, holy feeling being in Pyongyang, where the Great Leader once walked, and where his son, Kim Jong Il, now lived. Just knowing he breathed the same air made me feel so proud and special—which is exactly how I was supposed to feel.”

And yet, they manage to use love as a weapon. If you slip, if you say or do the wrong thing, not only you will be punished, but also your family. If you love them, you’ll do as you are told, and keep your mouth shut.

This has to be the plot for a dystopian novel. This can’t be real. I refuse to believe it.

In this country, people are indoctrinated and brainwashed from their early life, but reality takes over at some point. And that is when they make the decision to defect. Yeonmi says that everything needs to be taught, and she is right, but some things are just pure survival instinct. There’s a point in which North Koreans realize that something is wrong about everything they were taught since they were kids.  After all, love for the Dear Leader and hate towards the Japanese, Americans and South Koreans won’t fill their bellies. They will not light the fire that will prevent them and their families from freezing to death during the terrible North Korean winters. They will not give them the treatment or the medicines they need to avoid dying from diseases that the most of the countries have already eradicated.

But leaving is illegal. You are not the owner of your own fate. You have to settle for a life without future, and just survive. People are born, and immediately stripped of things they don’t even know or have yet. You grow up in complete darkness when it comes to your own worth, and your rights.

My heart weeps for North Korea.

I noticed that the first part of the book is narrated through the eyes of a child. A child who has seen a lot, yet some of her innocence remains. There’s mention of the regime but it’s not the main focus in Yeonmi’s description of life in her hometown. There is a focus on the people, on the bonds of friendship and family, and how people are what truly makes a country. Yes, there is an iron fist; yes, there is an authoritarian regime. But the first part of the book is focused on daily life, on the comings and goings of her neighbors in the different places she was in, like Hyesan, the frontier town that allowed her access to her first tastes of freedom, through smuggled goods from China. This first part is focused on how people, including her own father, worked and traded to survive, showing a life that the so called leaders of the country will never understand. It depicted Yeonmi’s family life, with their internal struggles and their relationship with each other, and with their neighbors. It showed the authentic North Korea.

The second part of the book is absolutely heartbreaking, and not for the faint of heart. It tells us about the terrible experiences she and her mother went through once they managed to cross into China, at the hands of human traffickers. They wouldn’t have imagined that what was coming was worse than their life in North Korea. Most female defectors have to endure this, brokers take advantage of their vulnerability and their need to survive, and buy and sell them as if they were cattle. Yeonmi herself was trafficked and took part on the business because of the man she was given to, and later in life, she says she considered herself beyond forgiveness, even God’s, because of the things she did to survive. But it was wrong from one of those missionaries in Qingdao to tell her so, after she confessed her work in the Chinese chatroom. Obviously these people don’t know the harrowing pain she and her mother went through, the despair they felt and their willingness to do whatever it takes to protect each other, and stay alive. God loves us no matter what, and if we truly want to be with Him, He accept us.

The trek through the Gobi Desert at night is worthy of a movie. Not only they had to endure the freezing temperatures and the danger of walking past wild animals, finding guidance in their compasses, and when they could not see them anymore, in the stars. They had to hide from any lights that could give away their position, because being arrested in China means going back to North Korea, and to a certain death. And this is why both Yeonmi and her mother started this part of their journey armed with knives, not for self-defense, but to put an end to their own lives in case they were caught. This is the kind of thing that you can only understand if you go through a similar experience. It’s complete and utter despair. And these are the lengths North Koreans defectors are willing to go just to be free and not go back to the hell they left behind.

If you don’t feel anything with this, your heart is stone.

Ultimately, Yeonmi and the other defectors who crossed to Mongolia through the Gobi Desert, are taken by Mongolian soldiers, and eventually go to Seoul with the help of the South Korean embassy. South Korea doesn’t return defectors; they act with understanding and care, and help them resettle, in a process that involves medical treatment, basic school education, learning to use new technologies and new language forms, and basically, unlearning all the pernicious habits and conceptions drilled into their heads through the overwhelming propaganda of the regime. This is all new for Yeonmi and her companions.

“I had no idea what a “hobby” was. When it was explained that it was something I did that made me happy, I couldn’t conceive of such a thing. My only goal was supposed to be making the regime happy. And why would anyone care about what “I” wanted to be when I grew up? There was no “I” in North Korea—only “we.””

Yet, when you have been a slave your entire life, freedom can be overwhelming, and even scary.

“It took me a long time to start thinking for myself and to understand why my own opinions mattered.”

A passport, a new house, and eating every day, are just the beginning. Suddenly your mind is yours, and you feel utterly lost, because now you have a new responsibility.

“I never knew freedom could be such a cruel and difficult thing. Until now, I had always thought that being free meant being able to wear jeans and watch whatever movies I wanted without worrying about being arrested. Now I realized that I had to think all the time—and it was exhausting. There were times when I wondered whether, if it wasn’t for the constant hunger, I would be better off in North Korea, where all my thinking and all my choices were taken care of for me.”

South Korea’s educational system is not easy. There’s a lot of content, insanely long hours of study, and a fierce competition to get to the best universities. But Yeonmi didn’t give up, and started reading all those books and novels she could have never found in North Korea, like, for example, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, an account, though fictional, of her country’s reality. Thinking for yourself brings new opportunities, and an entire world to discover, but also requires that you shake off all the lies that you bought your entire life. But living in South Korea, for a defector, means not only the need to settle to a new universe, it also means dealing with prejudice and not exactly a quick acceptance from South Koreans. Yet Yeonmi kept going, and through studying she did her best to be a better person, and most of all, to protect her mother, and find her sister.

There’s not much else I can say, except that just as Hyeonseo Lee, Yeonmi Park went through hell, but she didn’t turn her back to North Korea, and is now an activist for human rights. As for her sister Eunmi’s story, even though I think we all wanted to know what had happened to her after she crossed the border into China, it’s good that Yeonmi decided to let her story belong only to her. If Eunmi wants to tell it someday, it will be her decision alone, and that’s fine.

Yeonmi Park’s story is heartbreaking and terrible, but stories like hers are worth being written down and registered. North Korea is stuck in time, and sometimes, it’s hard to believe that this place, so brutal and ruthless, is real, and that there’s still people in the world stuck in a mostly rural country, who don’t know everyday technology, and live where the law of survival of the fittest prevails. It’s only through people like Yeonmi Park and Hyeonseo Lee (and many others, of course) that we can get to know about what really happens inside the most authoritarian regime in the world, but also, what it means to think for yourself, to make your own decisions, and not to buy every single lie that is thrown your way. Basically, to be free, and not taking it for granted. 

***

Thank you for reading! 

See you soon.

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Review - The Girl with Seven Names

Original Title: The Girl with Seven Names: A North Korean Defector's Story
Series: -
Author: Hyeonseo Lee, David John (primary contributor)
Published: October 14th, 2014
Publisher: William Collins

I don’t know much about South Korea, but recently, I discovered, to my great joy, a YouTuber whose parents were South Korean immigrants in my country, Argentina. Her name is Liliana Song, and her channel is LiryOnni. Her entire content, naturally, is about South Korea, where she’s living now, after living her whole life in Argentina. She is a fantastic bridge between Spanish speaking people and South Korean content, like k-pop, k-dramas, and occasionally, history. I will leave her link here, if anyone wants to check her out, but you should know, it’s all in Spanish. So in case you speak or understand the language, I strongly recommend her. And if not you can always activate subtitles.

 - Liry Onni

It is thanks to her that I have learned about the Korean War after the end of World War II, called sometimes the Forgotten War, and the ensuing division that made the Korean Peninsula the way it is today, with the Demilitarized Zone next to the 38th parallel north. This is not exactly something you learn about in school, but it is incredibly interesting, the start of the separation into capitalist South Korea, and communist North Korea. And if we get down to the details, technically this war is not over. Only the armistice was signed on July 27, 1953, but there was no formal peace treaty. And so, the 38th parallel north became a line dividing two vastly different worlds.

I learned a lot through LiryOnni, and this lead me to wonder about South Korea’s maligned neighbour. Like a sibling they had turned their backs to. I started watching TedxTalks by North Korean defectors, and reading their stories. Hyeonseo Lee and Yeonmi Park were the first results. And one thing is knowing that a certain place is terrible, but another thing, completely different, is listening first person accounts of what it is like to live there. A life that is tied to an oppressive regime and overwhelming propaganda, where you can’t think or speak for yourself, and even basic human rights, like food and healthcare, are denied.

This is Hyeonseo Lee’s story. She was born in North Korea in 1980 to a loving family, with an stepfather in the military that led to a life of constant moving and settling in new cities, but never outside the country. Her memoir, from time to time, reads like a thriller novel. It is written to be engaging, of course, yet knowing this is real takes it to a whole other level. It’s a story of bravery and hardship, but her courage is also in the decision of telling the world about her experience. Her life in North Korea, and her subsequent escape to China, are deeply distinctive because of her survival instinct. It’s the story of a woman who suddenly found herself alone in an unknown world, and had to be cunning, resourceful and smart enough to fend for herself, and forge her own path, in a country in which she was not even supposed to be in the first place.

I cannot describe it all. From time to time I forgot this was nonfiction. Every word seemed to depict a world we can only imagine in a dystopian sci fi novel. You know, a work of fiction. And after a while, you wish it was. Because the things she explains… They simply can’t be real. 

This is the kind of story that makes me feel guilty for complaining about my own country’s situation. Because it reminds us that even though all nations have ups and downs, we still have freedom, and we can’t take it for granted. The Girl with Seven Names opens a window for us to see inside the most oppressive, secretive and hermetic state in the world, and shed some light on its true reality. Hyeonseo Lee doesn’t soften the blow, or sugar-coates the story. It’s an account of reality. About suffering, slavery, indoctrination, hunger and corruption. The North Korean system is ruthless, we all know that (or else you have been living under a rock). But it’s not the only one. The way refugees are treated in the neighbour countries like China and Laos for illegal border crossing, it’s the testament of a world that cries for help. 

The stories around the 90s famine are truly harrowing. I can’t even explain it. It shows how people were driven by their most basic instincts to find food, reduced to their most animalistic version. Desperation. Bribing. Eating grass, bugs… Anything they could find. There are things I can’t even describe. Read the book to find out more. I’ll warn you, it’s horrifying. But it was through this that the image of “the greatest nation on Earth” began to crumble for their population. How is it that we are so great that we don’t even have food?

Both Hyeonseo Lee and Yeonmi Park come from Hyesan, a border town right next to China, where, with the right bribe, border guards turn a blind eye to the illegal trading that takes place there, where only a river, frozen in winter, separates North Korea from China. Hyeonseo Lee’s mother was an expert in this. She fed her family through illegal trading and bribing, and her name was well known in Hyesan.

“Perhaps it would be even harder for them to understand that I still love my country and miss it very much. I miss its snowy mountains in winter, the smell of kerosene and burning coal. I miss my childhood there, the safety of my father’s embrace, and sleeping on the heated floor. I should be comfortable with my new life, but I’m still the girl from Hyesan who longs to eat noodles with her family at their favourite restaurant. I miss my bicycle and the view across the river into China.”

There is no mention of the regime here. It’s sensory memory, it’s what’s familiar and close to her, what she grew up with. The fond memories of childhood before being aware of the hell you are really in. The loving family that never left you, and in despite of the many problems and hardships they had to endure, remained tight knit.

Life in North Korea isn’t easy. But it’s simple. You are told what to think, how to dress, how to cut your hair, how your house should be, who to love and who to hate, and what it is right, and what is wrong. If you tread carefully, nothing will happen to you. If you know your place, you’ll be safe.

Yeonmi Park, in her TEDxTalk, asks the audience “If you don’t know you are a slave, if you don’t you are isolated or oppressed, how do you fight to be free?”

It’s slavery through ignorance. Keeping people in the dark sustains the regime. Because, how do you know it is dark, if you never saw what light looks like? It’s easy not to fight for freedom, when you are not even aware of your chains. 

“The images conjured for us of tanks rolling across the border and slaughtering our people in their homes moved us all to floods of tears. The South Koreans had made victims of us. I burned with thoughts of vengeance and righting injustice. All the children felt the same. We talked afterwards of what we would do to a South Korean if we ever saw one.”

Propaganda is everywhere, at all times. From the early school days, kids learn to hate South Korea, Japan and the United States. And even though the situation is changing a little through the introduction (illegal, of course) of international content (like k-pop, k-dramas, and Hollywood movies), and the small opening of the country to tourists (as long as they don’t have South Korean or American passports), there’s still a lot that remains unchanged.

If you can’t relate to Hyeonseo Lee’s story, consider yourself lucky. I myself was born free, with the possibility of education through school, but also through reading books for my own entertainment, listening to music and watching as many movies as I want. And it’s enough for me to feel a renewed love for my country. It’s not perfect, of course. None is. But here, I don’t know the hardships of war. Here, no one will publicly execute me for prioritizing my life over the president’s portrait, or send me and my family to a prison labor camp simply for using the Internet, watching an international movie or listening to foreign music. I won’t starve, because I have access to food, and I’m healthy enough to work for it. I don’t have to fear a nuclear war. I can leave the country whenever I want without recurring to corrupt brokers, fake IDs, bribing or illegal border crossing. I can access higher education and learn languages if I want to. And so much more.

And if the fact that it is North Korea’s reality isn’t the testimony of a rotten system, then I don’t know what it is.

Yet in this dark place, in which love, as Yeonmi Park says, has the one and only meaning of “love for the Dear Leader”, Hyeonseo Lee’s motivation was love. Love for her family, for the need we can all understand of having them by your side. As much as the government tries to stifle it, twisting it to turn it into their own version of what it should mean, love is ever present in the stories told by North Korean defectors. Love for their parents, their siblings, their aunts and uncles, their children… A love that we can all understand, in despite of living in a vastly different reality. A love that makes them assume terrible dangers to take their families to safety, willing to do anything to give them a chance to truly live. And that is something not even this regime could stifle. There’s still hope. 

 It reminds me a quote by Aphrodite, that I read in Rick Riordan’s The Lost Hero.

“My point is that love is the most powerful motivator in the world. It spurs mortals to greatness. Their noblest, bravest acts are done for love.”

People are brainwashed in North Korea, and that’s just reality. But the fact that there are so many defectors tells that they are not stupid. Defecting is way more complicated now than it used to be, mostly after COVID-19; the border is even more watched than before. But people still find ways to leave and reach South Korea, where they want to go not only for safety, but because of their shared language. And now, you would think that crossing the border into China, as most North Korean defectors do, it’s all that’s needed for them to be free. Well. Wrong. It’s just the beginning of a journey that, like in this case, can take years, with countless dangers along the way, from prison and deportation, to human trafficking, and a death sentence in a prison camp, in which not only you will be punished, but also three generations of your family, for daring to defy the regime. This, of course, if you don’t drown or die of hypothermia while crossing the frozen Yalu River, or are discovered by the border patrols and shot to death. Chinese, Vietnamese, and Laotian authorities are perfectly aware that there are North Koreans among them. But also human traffickers are, and they can spot them quickly, offering them jobs and basically taking them as slaves, a terrible fate, especially for women. I don’t have to tell you why. You know what I mean.

Again, I wish I could be talking about a work of fiction.

If they are fortunate enough to get to South Korea, they won’t be sent back. They are taken to places like Hanawon, where they have access to food, medical attention, and training to start a new life. South Korea may not be perfect, as it is a place with a lot of competition, social pressure, and insanely long work hours. But it’s not the hell North Korea led their people to believe it is. And it’s a free country. Hyeonseo Lee’s story is a testament to this hardship. Of doing anything in your power to survive. Running. Lying. Deceiving. But also learning, and growing. Changing her name seven times was, in her case, the way she found to survive in a world in which she was unwelcome, hiding her true nationality in a country in which she was an illegal migrant and, if discovered, could be sent back to her country, to a horrible fate, if she couldn't pay for the silence on the matter. Each of her names mean something different. The girl who crossed the river at night to get to the lights in China. The girl who escaped her fate as a forced bride. The girl who learned Chinese as she could, without formal education, to open her own path in a world in which she was an intruder… Each of them is a piece in the puzzle of her identity, meaning something different, a distinct part of her life that, put together, show the whole picture of her journey, her struggle, her love and loss… Her life, basically. But also shows that we are not just us alone. Our identity is also shaped by the people around us and the moments we live with them.

That is why I say that even though her bravery is unmatched, there’s also a huge courage in the decision of sharing her story with the world, to expose the long, harrowing journey she went through, and the struggle to find her family and bring them through such dangers to freedom. Her story sheds a much necessary light on the world of not only North Koreans, but also on the way the world sees them. It’s an ideology devastated country. It’s a real life dystopia.

I think it is necessary for us to know about stories like Hyeonseo Lee’s. Because even her journey had silver linings. The kindness showed to her by a stranger in Laos who paid for her family’s fine to get them out of jail was not only life-saving, it was also unexpected. After a life of hearing that people from outside North Korea were not to be trusted, and a decade of lying about herself, learning the hard way that she could trust no one, this man, by the name Dick Stolp and from Australia, showed her that there’s still people who care for her country’s situation, and even though it strikes fear in everyone, there’s still people who want to help, even through small acts of kindness. There is compassion in this world, even when it’s hard to find. People like him, from time to time, restore my faith in humanity.

This book is a message for all of us, but also for the powerful men that lead the world. Because they don’t starve. They will not suffer deportation and imprisonment in a labor camp along with their families. They won’t have to see their families die after days of starvation. They will not be detained for illegal border crossing, making international phone calls, using the internet, or listening to music. As long as they keep power, they will never truly understand what their people go through. They play their games, and, as always, the people living under their thumb are the target of the consequences of their decisions. People who have to do whatever they can to survive, and are punished for it. It’s good that Hyeonseo Lee decided to tell us her story, not just because it’s remarkable, but also because it’s necessary to register it. Her experience is harrowing and terrible, painful, and intricate, but it has a happy ending. And even though she got to be free, she hasn’t turned her back to North Korea, and keeps working as an activist for human rights.

She has seen hell, and yet, it didn’t kill her kindness, her compassion, and her loving spirit. And for that, she deserves respect.

Thank you for reading. Be sure to check the videos and YouTube channels I put here.

***

See you next time! 

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Review - Taking Flight

Original Title: Taking Flight: From War Orphan to Star Ballerina
Series: -
Author: Michaela DePrince, Elaine DePrince
Published: October 14th, 2014
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers

Damn, what a story.

I’ve been meaning to read this book for a long time, but I kept postponing it because I’m not a huge nonfiction reader. However, every page of this memoir was worth reading.

First of all, it’s necessary to mention that both authors, the ballerina Michaela DePrince and her mother, Elaine DePrince, are not writers per se, but simply two people who felt that sharing their journey was worthy. That is why the writing style feels kind of cozy, making me feel like I’m with both of them sitting in a coffeehouse, while they tell me their story, in a friendly, intimate way.

Even thought Michaela’s story is heartbreaking, it is still inspiring, in so many ways! Without recurring to the huge words and poetic prose of professional writers, she simply tells us her story, and let us know about the truth she lives by. And although it definitely isn’t a fairytale, I can’t help thinking that the episode around the magazine cover seems to have a certain magical realism quality on it, being both incredible, and moving. Practically a miracle, because, what are the odds that a gust of wind, and an old magazine published in 1979, that we will never know how it even got to that far corner of the world, could define a four year-old war orphan’s identity, giving her hope when she had nothing else in the world? Michaela, by then going by Mabinty Bangura, would cling to that picture and the happiness it promised, only to find out, years and years later, that she was the European/American ballerina Magali Messac.

This is the cover of that magazine.

It’s chilling, isn’t it? Even hard to believe, but true, nonetheless. Anything in her life going differently than it did, would have never seen her becoming the person she is today. It’s nothing short of unbelievable.

One of the things that moved me the most about this book, is the amount of love in it, in every possible way. Michaela’s adoptive parents, Charles and Elaine DePrince, are worthy of a standing ovation, because even after going through terrible pain and loss, they did not let that crush them, as the love in their hearts moved them to adopt these neglected little girls from war-torn Sierra Leone, giving them the unique chance to have a family and be happy, rescuing them from a place that would have surely see them dead in the short-term. Their huge hearts and endless compassion, in my opinion, makes them heroes in their own way, deserving the utmost respect. Although it’s sad that the girls say that there’s certain fears that will never leave them, like the sound of loud male voices, that remind them of the rebels that committed those terrible atrocities in front of them, the work done by Charles and Elaine is everything every parent in the world should do, teaching love, and encouraging children to open their wings instead of clipping them. It’s worthy of admiration. That is the kind of love the world should be filled with.

On a re-read, I noticed something that I really want to mention, that I think it's wonderful: the fact that when Michaela talks about her days in the orphanage, and about the aunties giving them food, in the pecking order, she mentions some of the kids by their name, instead of the number they had been so despicably known by. Kadiatu Mansarey, Sento Dumbaya, Mariama Kargbo, and Isatu Bangura (funnily enough, with the same last name Michaela was born with, and later, becoming Mariel DePrince, adopted by the same family). Seems small, but for me, it's incredibly important and meaningful, as it gives worth to those children whose life had been so tragically torn apart before it could even begin.

Another thing this book got me thinking about is how I can’t take my surroundings for granted. Michaela and her sisters witnessed things, while in the orphanage, that no child should, ever, and nowhere. Things many of us can’t even imagine. And although no country is perfect, nor Heaven on Earth, it’s essential that we reconsider how lucky we are living in a free one, where, if you want, you can freely practice your religion, or pursue any art form, without the fear that it will get you killed, or deported. Where education is enough for people to understand that a harmless skin condition –like Michaela’s vitiligo–, or being left-handed –like Michaela’s sister, Mia– are not synonymous with being cursed, and that you should not blame an innocent child for things like the rain not coming that year, or failing crops (sounds medieval, but it happened in the 90s). I honestly felt a renewed appreciation for my own country, and for all those things we take for granted, but are still a huge blessing.

Also, after reading this, it’s understandable how and why countries like the US, the UK, Spain, Australia, France, or even Argentina itself, become beacons of hope for so many immigrants and refugees. I know I’m not the first person wondering this, but, when will the world understand that wars lead nowhere? That they solve nothing? That there are no winners, only survivors, and that kids like Michaela and her sisters are the real victims? Because those who start and lead the wars rarely suffer for it. Those who play no part in them are the ones who end up paying the steepest of prices, being stripped from things they don’t even have yet, like an identity, opportunities, and hope. Plus, the fact that we don’t know what it is to live in a country torn apart by war, treatable diseases, and starvation, with access to clean water with the turn of a tap, is a true blessing we have to be grateful for, every morning we wake up. Because although we consider them basic things, they are still denied to a lot of people around the world, who struggle for them every single day. Michaela’s story is a devastating proof of it, as she tells it with raw honesty, and smashing your heart into a million pieces in the process.

Moving to America with her new parents gave both Michaela and Mia a second chance, and so they could start discovering their artistic sides. Through her story, Michaela tells us how her ballet journey started, and so, we learn that it is way more than just beautiful costumes and pointe shoes. It is years and years of practice, injuries, and sacrifice, being considered the most difficult dance form for a reason. All the beauty that we see on stage, has a price, and Michaela doesn’t hold anything back, telling us about the pros and cons of this magnificent art form, all the while exuding an intense passion for it. You can’t deny she loves every step of it, and that she truly is what she was meant to be, in despite of her difficult life. It’s wonderfully done.

By the way, you can find her videos on YouTube, she’s an amazingly graceful ballerina. I picked this one because she talks about it in her book, it’s a variation of La Esmeralda, when she was only 13 years-old.

Beautiful, isn’t it? Love the costume.

But also, Michaela uses this book to bring awareness around a matter that most of the time gets overlooked, that is the discrimination in the world of ballet. I hadn’t realized, until I knew about her, that ballet has, in fact, a very small number of black dancers, and when you look further into it, you know it wasn’t even meant for them in the first place. Already from something as easily unnoticeable –but huge at the same time– as the colour ballet footwear comes in, traditionally pink or nude (but never brown), the message is very clear. Michaela herself tells us that she heard a teacher saying that they never put a lot of effort on black dancers, because they tended to get fat, so there’s rejection right from the get go. But I’m glad that thanks to people like her, that is changing nowadays, because dancing (and art in general) is for everyone, no matter how you look like. Besides, any person out there who decides to take ballet has my instant respect, because it’s not easy at all.

The only thing I criticize about this book is that, at certain points, when Michaela talks about her different auditions and dance training, she gives entire paragraphs like this:

“For example, in Level 1, you might be expected to do a combination of dance steps like: tendu to second, relevé, demi-plié, return to first. But in Level 3X you would be expected to do a combination like: fondu front en relevé, close; fondu back, inside leg en relevé, close; fondu outside leg to second en relevé, then plié with the standing leg while the working leg is at forty-five degrees, then go to passé. Repeat in reverse.”

These steps and specific ballet position are okay, they have to be there. And is fine if the reader is a dancer too, but that is not my case, so all those terms do not make any sense to me. However, this is isn’t frequent and doesn’t not affect the purpose of the book at all.

In general, I think that this memoir sends a great message, not only about war and poverty, but also about how your dreams are valid, and how important it is to follow them, no matter what, especially in a world that, right from the get-go, tells you not to, that those are not your spaces, and that you should settle for things that are “more suited” for you because of how you look like. Also, it brings awareness of the importance of representation in the different fields (that being art, science, etc.), of how significant it is to see someone that looks like us in the media, doing all those things we could, or want to do. Not opening these circles with the same amount of effort and support, to every single person who wishes to access them, is contributing to the deepening of problems such as a depression, bullying, and low self-esteem, cutting people short in the process of following their passions and finding their true identities, just because of what is, essentially, a whim, a stupid attitude of pointing fingers and saying “you can, but you can’t”.

I want to punch people who do that. Let’s not contribute to it, please.

So, in short, it’s a great read, and I recommend it to anyone who likes memoirs, because it’s a story worthy of being told. Also, if you want to hear it from Michaela herself, I’ll leave her Ted Talk here.

***

Thank you so much for reading!
See you soon!

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Review - More Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops

Original Title: More Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops
Series: Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops, #2
Author: Jen Campbell 
Published: April 18th, 2013
Publisher: Constable and Robinson

I really don't know what to say about all the stupid people recorded in this book, except that they made me laugh, and a A LOT. Because one thing is having a kid saying things like this:

- When I grow up, I’m going to be a book ninja.
- Mummy … have we gone back in time?! (upon entering a really old, antique bookstore)
- Suggesting the bookseller to protect the books in her basement with a trained dragon.

That's perfectly acceptable. Children are hilarious, and have the best, widest imagination.

But another, completely different thing, is having an adult saying stuff like:
- I only like books that I can really believe happened, you know? Like Twilight.
- Do you have audiobooks on sign language?
- If I buy this book, can I transfer it onto my friend’s Kindle?
- My son’s getting married next week. Do you have a book to help me make sure it doesn’t rain on his big day? Some incantations or something?
- Where’s your true fiction section?

*face palm* People like this make me scared of asking "how much stupider can it get?", because they seem to be taking it as a challenge. 

But they made me laugh, and that's enough for me.

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Review - Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops

Original Title: Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops
Series: Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops, #1
Author: Jen Campbell 
Published: April 5th, 2012
Publisher: Constable and Robinson

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." - Albert Einstein. 

And, oh my God, he was right.
This made me laugh out loud.

Never a book before led me to so many face palms! And all I could think of was that we don't even need to make up this kind of things, because people actually say stuff like that. Reality exceeds fiction, indeed.

***

Sorry for the long absence, guys. I'm in a reading slump and these two books are a nice way to break through it. 

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Review - Dare to Be Kind

Original Title: Dare to Be Kind: How Extraordinary Compassion Can Transform Our World
Series: -
Author: Lizzie Velásquez
Published: June 6th, 2017
Publisher: Hachette Books

Let me clarify something. I never read nonfiction. I know some people love it and prefer it over any type of novel, short story, or whatever writing form you can think of, but I’m not one of them. I just need a good plot to keep me engaged and passing one page after another wanting to find the answers to an amazingly concocted story. Or at least, that’s what I expect every time I pick a new book. However, I had to make an exception with this one. 

I’m a big fan of Lizzie Velasquez and I consider her one of the bravest, most beautiful women in the world. In case you don’t know who she is, Lizzie is an American author and motivational speaker who, at the age of 17, was labeled by Internet bullies as “The World’s Ugliest Woman”, due to a very rare and only recently diagnosed syndrome she was born with, that doesn’t allow her to gain weight and only a few other people in the world have. You can find her talks online, she has several in which she explains her syndrome and tells her story, and she also has her personal YouTube channel, here, if you want to take a look. But my favorite is her TEDx AustinWomen talk, that truly left me speechless and gave me a lot to think:

In this book, Lizzie tells us her story and her memories, not only on bullying, but also about the circumstances of her birth, how her syndrome affects her life, and how it doesn’t define who she is. She talks about her family and friends, and although I don’t know them, I can relate to the feelings and situations she went through, especially around finding friends who are truly worth keeping. And also, I could relate around chapter 8, when she talks about her dog, Ollie. I can truly understand what she means when she says that the puppy saved her life, as my own dog, a beautiful, loving black giant named Loki, came one day, and since then my home is a different place, for the better. I didn’t really know how dogs could be, as I never had one that lasted long, but now I see that they are little angels sent to teach us about unconditional love, loyalty and friendship. Everything she says about Ollie is true, and if you don’t have a dog, I sincerely encourage you to adopt one. You will have found your best friend.

The reason why I grabbed this book is because, recently, I’ve been hearing of a lot of bullying cases, in the news, and online, that, sadly, end with kids or teenagers attempting to take their own lives, due to their suffering at the hands of their peers. I myself, back when I was a kid, had to go through many years of non-stop bullying, and although I thank God that I never suffered physical violence, the truth is that words and attitudes can cut as deeply as the sharpest knife, and scars take an eternity to fade, if they ever do. So as Lizzie shared her story and her darkest moments in her book, I want to share some of mine, to all of you out there who think that there’s no case like yours, that this is never going to end. Your situation, if you are bullied, are a lot more relatable than you think, and let me tell you, it’s not an endless darkness. I know it, because I’ve been there, and I got out. Of course, I know that things were different back then. Every time I look back when I was 8, 9, 10 years-old, I feel grateful that we didn’t have social media back then, or things could have gone out of hand very easily. When I was a kid, bullying didn’t have a name. It was just something kids do in school, that is normal, because it’s just a part of it. But the truth is that it’s not that easy, and Lizzie explains adults’ attitude towards it in the clearest terms, that I saw with my own eyes:

“Some people believe bullying is a normal part of childhood—so normal, in fact, that they might not even consider certain behaviors to be bullying at all.”

Just as Lizzie, I have a few stories of my own. As a kid, in middle and high school, I did what all of us do: try to fit. Needless to say, it didn’t fully work. I had friends, yes, but not a best friend, not someone I could talk to, and share everything I loved. Since forever I’m a reader and a writer, I love fantasy and romance, but in school, I was just the “book swallower”, the nerdy, unremarkable girl that no one noticed, except when there was a test, or a book we had to read and they didn’t understand it. I was laughed at, and called names, on a daily basis, and more than once I heard insults towards my family. I got asked why I was that fat, when I really wasn’t. I once was called “uglier than a bat”, by this guy who said he would take me to the field trip we were going to, so I could scare bats away with just my face. Another time, I fell into a sewer, as I was so angry with my bullies I didn’t watch my step, and as I clung to the sidewalk to get out, they just laughed and pointed at me, instead of helping me. I spent one PE class after another, as teams were being formed, left sitting there, humiliated as the last one, as I watched the captains looking at each other to decide which team would take me, as none of them wanted me, and I came home crying my eyes out, and wondering why I just kept going to school.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. For the sake of brevity, and my own heart, I won’t delve deeper. So, what’s the point of that bunch of bad memories? Not to make you feel sorry for myself, because I don’t want that. Just to tell you that I get it. I know what bullying means, I know what it is not wanting to go back to school, and repress your anger as tears go down your cheeks. And I also know how it is to defend yourself, and having adults take the bullies’ side, when your life is a living hell. Even now, sitting here, a new memory comes to me, when a teacher yelled at me as I was standing in front of the entire class, for everyone to see, because I had failed an exam on verb conjugations. I was 12 years old. My heart still aches a little bit when I remember that, proving that teachers are as capable of being bullies as kids are, and in a worse kind of way, because they are supposed to be the mature adult in the situation. But I power through all these memories, because as Lizzie says, they are not going to win. They don’t define me.

Have you ever looked for a book’s genre? When you go to GoodReads you can see them listed in each book’s individual page, so you can know if it is fantasy, romance, mystery or whatever genre you can think of. But, did you notice that, when you read that book, that little word didn’t truly cover it, that the book was far more complex than just a fantasy, or a romance, that it had many subplots and a ton of characters, each deeper than the other? The same happens with us. When we are bullied, names are applied to us, and hurtful things are said about us. But the truth is that, just like those books, that doesn’t describe us. We are far, far, more complex than whatever name we are called by, and it is our responsibility to make our story shine. Now, I’m not saying that we are books, or intend to compare people to them. But I do like to say that we are all writers in some way. We, and no one else, is in charge of writing our own story, and NO ONE is allowed to stop us. I decided, a long time ago, even when things were really tough, that I am the only one in charge of my story. Lizzie even says this in her book:

“Wherever you are right now, you’ve gotten there because of your own remarkable qualities and experiences. You are the person who led the way to where you are today. The good choices you’ve made and the bad ones, the positive experiences you’ve had and the negative ones—all of it is your story.”

You, my friend, that you are reading this, and can relate to what I’ve told you, need to know that you are more than just the bullied boy or girl, and that everything is about choices. You choose to let the bullies win, or not. Please, don’t sink into silence. Speak up. Ask for help, and don’t be afraid. Just as Lizzie says, you decide if your path is going to be good or bad, and I believe that all of us were born for a reason, among the trillion possibilities of coming to this world being who we are, with the body type, the eye color, the personality and character we have. Even when we don’t notice at first, and the bullies’ voices and opinions fill our head and seem to be louder than a thunder, they are just that. Noise. An annoying cacophony that you can shut up with your personality and qualities, your talents, and the fulfilling of your goals. You can fight back by not letting them define you, just as Lizzie says in her TEDx talk, and remarks in her book:

“I am here to tell you: It is fine to be who you are. It is a good thing not to be just like everybody else. What makes you unique is what makes you beautiful, because it’s what makes you you. And the world needs you, exactly as you are. That’s the truth, plain and simple.”

I spent years of my life bullied by classmates and even college professors for what I liked, and especially because I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Stories are my passion, my best way to communicate with people, but some college professors literally laughed at my face and didn’t take me seriously when I said it, convinced that I was in the wrong place, that because they couldn’t teach me how to do that, it was a delusional thing, a fleeting dream in the head of a naïve teenager, and that I would eventually give up. But, just like Lizzie says and explains, the best revenge are your accomplishments, and a happy life. My work was never good for them, because it was too “literary” for their taste, and they gave me every reason not to try. But they never, and I mean, NEVER, could slap the pen out my hand, because that’s my decision, and they don’t have a say in the matter. It wasn’t until years later, when I chose a different course of studies, when I truly found a voice. The voice of the storyteller I never stopped being, and although at first I was overly shy, and scared of being laughed at again, I found people who truly saw me, the real me, and for the first time I was told, as I was close to tears, that “if they don’t or won’t listen, it’s their loss.” And now, I say the same thing to you. Your voice is worth to be heard. You were born unique. Your talents and virtues do not have a match out there, and no matter what, you are a full human being for who there’s no barriers if there’s determination enough. And I tell you what, the world is depending on whatever purpose you are meant to achieve. Get rid of all those thoughts that eat away your brain, because nothing, and I mean NOTHING they say or do, is worth your life. I don’t know your story, but I know mine, and I finally come to understand that I’m more than that bullied little girl, and that if I don’t move forward because of those jerks, they would be winning a match that only should be my victory. Have things hurt? Yes. There were dark times? Yes. But they didn’t, and won’t, define me. 

About this, I would love for you to listen to Andrea Pennington in her TEDxIUM talk, where she encourage us to become who we really are, to LOVE who we are, in direct connection to Lizzie's words. It left me speechless, they are twenty minutes of PURE GOLD.

The world would be a very different place if we just replace three of every five hurtful words with a kind one. Just as Lizzie wants to tell us in her book, something as simple as kindness can save us, and change the world around us. 

Also, what Lizzie tries to tell us with every word, is that true beauty comes from within, and that's what we all need to understand and remember every single day. This world is too demanding in terms of physical perfection, and the standards are unattainable, so I won't waste the only life I've got trying to fit them. The only people in our lives that are worth keeping around are those brave enough to look past all of our physical imperfections (because everyone has them), to the person we really are, because all of us are worthy of love, and love creates beauty. 

Finally, one more thing. Adults, especially teachers, DON’T IGNORE BULLYING. Don’t pretend it’s not there, just because you think you can’t handle it. Step forward, and take the bullied person’s side. Take action, because this is literally costing lives. Stop what you are doing, and listen. LISTEN. Pay attention. Do your job as a grown up and look for the roots of the problem to take it out. Use your place as an educator, as a mature person, to spread kindness and respect, from whatever position you are in. If we unite, and for once we do not respond with curt language, cuss words, insults, or even physical violence, this world would be one step closer to be a better place.

Please. Take the brave decision. Love and forgiveness are ALWAYS the right choice. For the sake of the world, Dare to Be Kind. 

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