Author: Jorge Benjamín Mejías Acosta.
All rights reserved.

With a simple, informative and direct style, the medical biography is aimed at citizens with shame on their faces across the planet.

"In the country of the fierce fleas, it is forbidden to speak ill of them"

I was always a soldier of Christ in important evangelical churches with great orchestras, which promoted an avant-garde and authentic mission. In them, I was minister and musical director.


We entered the equator in Quito in 2001 and immediately settled in Ibarra.


Its purpose was to share my experiences with ecuadorian colleagues.


In 2003 we went to Pasto, Colombia, for the piano.


There I bought the Yamaha piano for $ 1500, the case cost me an additional $ 100.


I remember how happy I felt: it was an original black case, made with cotton fibers...


For 2005 we settled in Quito. We left behind: a music academy and many friends.


They lodged me as it belonged: I was the academic master, in charge of raising the level of the musicians of all the quichua churches in the center of the country; hundreds of them. Some followed me as if I were a messiah... I think they were not wrong.


Actually, I had two postgraduate courses from the Berklee in my curriculum.


My specialty was orchestral composition. I knew music in depth; and for the musicians “that was bread of life”.


Classes of harmony, composition and arrangements; that's why in the end everyone applauded my classes.


With enthusiasm we went to evangelize Quizapincha up, in Tiliví. In a town located on the slopes of Chimborazo.


There, a small Church served us as accommodation.


Poverty was extreme: many dogs and 75% of the marginalized population.


Huts with dirt floors, dirty and barefoot children, surrounded by hungry animals.


I was working a few months until I fulfilled the agreement.


We return to Quito. This time, we work in a church in the center of the city.


A Christian sister offered us an inn; apparently, for free. The lady was of middle class, with two adult males married in England and a modest property located in a ravine.


At the entrance, a department rented to a Manabí family. The house downtown. Next, a narrow corridor with a corral on the left and a corn field on the right. At the edge of the ravine, a small room.


At first, we thought it was wonderful to be surrounded by vegetation.

Then with time... we discovered that it was a trap. Nature came over us!


The room had no way out. A mountain cornered us in the background; while corn and animals adorned the entrance.


The neighbor had: a sick dog, a cat and a sting on the skin... that there was no way to get rid of it.


She was an expert in bargaining. She bought the peasants in the area, cheap and sick chickens.


One day, with three thousand dollars, she left for England. I had left the care of the property in charge.


My tasks were routine, basically them consisted of:

1. Feed the animals.

2. Drink coffee.

3. Sit down to write on the computer.

4. Drink coffee.

5. Answer calls from some students.

6. Bathe me

7. Eat.

8. Exit.

9. Teach.

10. Return... stocked with food for a week.

11. Sit down to write on the computer.

12. Watch Direct TV.

13. Sleep.


I was updated: permanently connected with the best software on the planet.


There was very little left... the closest thing to a monk's scholarship in Tibet.


With all the time in the world at my disposal, it was indisputable, that my autistic mind, had absorbed everything that a passionate librarian of study and reading could absorb: computers, systems, programming, social networks, etc.


I also spent time to raise my professional level:


Musical production, cinema, television, sociology, social and artistic criticism, languages, etc.


That's how I was... until suddenly, one day, my neighbor appeared:


"I already solved the residence"... she said combing her hand with the scanty hair she had. I noticed that there were no sores on her hands.


We opened the house. Everything was upside down and the smell was nauseating! The cat was inviting all the males in the neighborhood; and took them, literally, straight to bed.


Of course for good people it was my turn to put my hands in that crap!


Later, at night, the lack of air was unsustainable. I went straight to the hospital!


Mrs. and I we were greeting a couple of months; she was lost… I did not see her anymore!


I went back to my daily routine, with small adjustments here and there.


I changed the diet. I began to ingest too many amounts of sugar.


I cooked myself.

I learned from YouTube how to prepare custards and pudding... it was not a big problem.


At that time, we were on weekends in Latacunga, Saquisilí and Ambato.


The boys, worried, did not want to enter some of the classrooms. In them, the smell of oil was unbearable... a sign that there were fleas.


The phantom of insomnia was hovering around me... to the point that I had to give the lessons totally outdated!


The night before he prepared the classes. Bruce Lee's story was my favorite.

They passed the series, on Saturdays, about 3 or 4 in the morning; Afterwards, It imposed itself before traveling, a good bath and a cup of coffee.


When I left the bathroom, amazed, I noticed how every pore of my thighs were white and inflamed... As if they wanted to explode!

Then... in my life, little by little, everything changed for the worse.

Consecutively, some extraordinary things happened, that allowed the curse to be established in that place.


First: one morning a green fly rested on the table. I took it very carefully... and it stung me.


Second: I murdered a couple of huge spiders who abused my kind company. They lived sheltered in the curtain of the room.


Third: I banished a countless number of slugs who sailed "impudently" through the walls of my room.


I have to confess, that before these events... there was so much loneliness that enveloped me... that it was necessary for me to have a certain connection with animals; above all with those of the corral.


We became friends with a rabbit and a rooster. Both ate from my hand.

The chickens were running towards me as they felt my presence!


It was wonderful to see all of that. There I could see something incredible... that the intelligence of animals was superior to that of man.


They came, from small, with a pre-designed chip to perform precise tasks.


There was no room for indecision: everything was mathematical and programmed.


How exact they were to catch a grain of rice! With how much affection they received me!


I fell so in love with animals...  I forgot a little about myself!


The drugs, they never caught my attention. With an autistic, redundant, abstract, pragmatic and mathematical thought, truly I did not want them, I did not need them.


I taught the Berklee course online, some Latin and Ecuadorian musicians had contacted me.


I composed three songs to President Correa... three productions; the fourth was a symphony, I never finished it.


I did not charge a single penny for them! I did not claim them! Like, they were not going to pay me!


Sometime later, for a matter of seconds, I saw a tunga round and brown, coming out with "self-sufficiency" of my urinary system.


Then, the "bugs" started to bother me.


The bites were intense!

I know, it sounds strange what I'm going to say, but... in that situation I was in, I came to miss the spiders and the slugs.


At first I thought it was a local and manageable problem.


I bought all kinds of products at veterinarians... and nothing. 99% of them they did not work.


Finally, I filled the tub with vinegar and spent several hours inside it.


The sleeping pills, they became necessary... essential... the brain was on high alert!


I noticed that one of my legs was very swollen and draining a milky fluid.


Later I realized the poor state of the woods that made up the ceiling and floor of that room. They were cracked... totally. Frequently, I bought "insecticide-fungicide" and painted them.


I spent all my time outside that hell... in the corridor, between the corral and the cornfield. I pulled out the computer. I only came in to eat and sleep.


I did not sleep in bed anymore, I did not trust her!


I threw myself on the table, without blankets; but the cold burned me.


I managed with some nylon bags. I holstered them five by five to avoid the cold...

Two groups: one of the groups I made an opening for the head; the other for the feet.


All the money I had I spent!


Already tired of so many lost battles, I painted the room, I picked up my things and I disappeared!


In a new place, without furniture and without money. I still believed that the "bugs" had been left behind... I was "chewing" that for a couple of days.

I was busy making "human rights" efforts; specifically in the HIAS and in the UNHCR.

They worry "too much" about common situations. The old Cubans and without family did not qualify, we had no right to live!

Bad news... the "bugs" returned.

They were already installed inside me!

I moved again, I threw everything in the street! I was supported by the computer. I knew so much, that some called me "Engineer".

The new place was a small room, but I liked it... it looked directly onto the street.

I quickly installed the Yamaha piano, the computer and went to work.

I designed a television based on the XMBC platform. With that he ate something; really, once a day.

I had to save a little money and invent something to scare away the bugs!

I worked on a project, it consisted of the following:

I bought a tent, two desk lamps and a mat. The lamps were to warm me.

For one night everything was great. The next night, I noticed alarmed, how the "bugs" were stinging my feet at intervals of a few seconds. Because of the accumulated experience, I knew they were coming from somewhere!

I checked everywhere and did not find the nest. Suddenly, I looked at the black case of the piano, it was folded in a corner... abandoned.

I opened it with fear and watched... apparently it was fine.

It left me with doubts, I sensed something... I ran to the toolbox for a magnifying glass and a flashlight.

I checked the internal seams... by God there they were!

They were a kind of white cockroaches of different sizes. The older ones measure one millimeter; the others, from 5 to ten in a millimeter.

With a desire to vomit I threw the case to the street!

Then, life continued its course; We keep fucking: me and "the fleas."

The lack of money was the keynote. With the loss of blood from the bites, a good diet was necessary.

I ate and slept little. I bought in ultra-casual markets shoes and used clothes.

I moved for the third time. I left everything behind. Living in the streets, seeking help and an answer.

Someone gave me a black hat. I changed the name of "Engineer", to "Sparrows".

Unwittingly, life had turned me into an expert on "bugs"!


By the repeated bites, we acquire the ability to identify the subject, its size and its "modus operandi".


We knew that there were several vectors that worked in unison and as a team, with two purposes: to exist and to feed on blood.


In Cuba, we received a war wound, caused by a "Castro's butt".


The G2 blew my left parietal; and since then, an ugly scar adorns my head.


It is hard to imagine the strategies that some parasitic insects can use to get away with it!


I remember, that there in the "Colmena", I suffered from strong migraines and terrible pain of hemorrhoids...


They also started some very strange pains inside my head.


The scar of my "war wound" was inflamed. I felt in the brain mass penetration, sporadic bites and a sensation of known burning.


This time I went straight to the black cap and explored its internal seams. The nest was there!


The problem was not that, they had entered the brain easily; the skull was perforated.


The question or riddle to be solved is:


How did they enter my heart, liver and kidneys? It seems crazy, but I feel the "bugs" work from there!


The pain is tremendous, a true agony!


Anything can be expected from insects. They are perfect! Nothing like technological, scientific and social retardation that humans suffer in the Third World; especially in Latin America.


I am making a complaint about the possibility of a transmission of a disease... and the authorities, irresponsibly, are looking the other way.


Apparently, they closed the case... and are playing with the times. That is serious and constitutes a crime!


There is mediocrity in the public health system... there is vulnerability, especially for these cases of parasitosis.


We have checked it several times. Everything is functional to the system.


Few are those who, for the common good, devote some of their time to creativity and research.


Still, the doctors and the authorities, are thinking what to do with this crap that I am throwing! They are still thinking what to do with me!


The alternatives are:


a) Kidnap me and lock me up somewhere.


b) Do not heal me and let me die.


The bad news for all, is that there are no drugs to remedy this disease; the good news... I have only a few days to live.


But... be careful... there are other zombies in the streets!


Before me they already existed! Was it we who invented this curse? Of course not!


Everything is real. Everything is true. What we have exposed is amazing, but coherent. We do not have time for drama and exaggeration.


We only gave the writing the focus of an "unforgivable" literary style; the one that has always characterized us.


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