The farmers and fishermen on lands and waters both near and far knew that something very serious had occurred. They heard the bad news from the bees, wasps, and birds that took flight and vanished over the horizon, and from the worms that burrowed several feet underground, leaving the fishermen without bait and the chickens without food.
   A couple of decades later, a tsunami struck South Asia and gigantic waves swallowed another multitude.
   As the tragedy was brewing, when the earth had barely begun to move deep under the sea, elephants raised their trunks and blared desperate laments. No one understood when the beasts broke their chains and stampeded into the jungle.
   Flamingos, leopards, tigers, boars, deer, water buffalo, monkeys, and snakes also fled before the disaster.
   The only ones to die were the humans and the turtles.
   ARNO
   Nature had not yet been committed to the insane asylum, but it already suffered from periodic nervous breakdowns that warned of things to come.
   At the end of 1966, the Arno River’s dream of having a flood all its own came true, and the city of Florence faced the worst inundation in its entire history. In a single day, Florence lost more than it had in all the bombings of the Second World War.
   Soon after, Florentines knee-deep in mud set to rescuing whatever might have survived the shipwreck. There they were, men and women, dripping wet, working, cursing the Arno and all its relatives, when a long truck came barreling past.
   The truck carried an enormous body mortally wounded by the flood: the head bounced along over the rear wheels and a broken arm hung over the side.
   As the wooden giant passed, men and women put aside their shovels and pails, uncovered their heads, crossed themselves. And in silence they watched it disappear from view.
   He too was a son of the city of Florence.
   This Jesus crucified, Jesus broken, had been born here seven centuries ago from the hand of Giovanni Cimabue, teacher of Giotto.
   GANGES
   The great river of India used to bathe not the earth, but the heavens above and beyond. The gods refused to give up the river that brought them water and cool air.
   And thus it was until the Ganges decided to move. It moved to India, where it now flows from the Himalayas to the sea, so the living can purify themselves in its waters, and the ashes of the dead may find their destiny.
   The sacred river, which took pity on the earthborn, never imagined that it would receive offerings of garbage and poison that would make its life in the world impossible.
   THE RIVER AND THE FISH
   An old proverb has it that teaching fishing is better than handing out fish.
   Bishop Pedro Casaldáliga, who lives in the Amazon, says yes, that is correct, a very good thought. But suppose someone buys the river that had belonged to all and outlaws fishing? Or suppose toxic waste pollutes the river and poisons the fish? In other words, suppose what happens is what is happening now?
   THE RIVER AND THE DEER
   The oldest book on education was written by a woman.
   Dhouda of Gascony wrote Liber Manualis, a manual for her son, in Latin at the beginning of the ninth century.
   She did not impose a thing. She suggested, she advised, she showed. One of the pages invites us to learn from deer that “ford wide rivers swimming in single file, one after the other, with the head and shoulders of each resting on the rump of the deer ahead; they support one another and thus are able to cross the river more easily. And they are so intelligent and clever that when they realize the one in the very front is tiring, they send him to the end of the line and another takes the lead.”
   THE HANDS OF THE TRAIN
   Mumbai’s trains, which transport six million passengers a day, break the laws of physics: more passengers enter them than fit.
   Suketu Mehta, who knows about these impossible voyages, says when every jam-packed train pulls out, people run after it. Whoever misses the train, loses his job.
   Then the cars sprout hands out of windows or from roofs, and they help the ones left behind clamber aboard. And these train hands do not ask the one running up if he is foreign or native-born, nor do they ask what language he speaks, or if he believes in Brahma or in Allah, in Buddha or in Jesus, nor do they ask which caste he belongs to, if he is from a cursed caste or no caste at all.
   DANGER IN THE JUNGLE
   Savitri left.
   The savage who had heard her call trampled the fence, knocked over the guards, and entered the tent. Savitri broke free of her chains and the two of them disappeared, together, into the jungle.
   The owner of the Olympic Circus calculated the loss at about nine thousand dollars and said, to make matters worse, Savitiri’s friend Gayatri was very depressed and refused to work.
   At the end of 2007, the fugitive couple was located at the edge of a lake, 150 miles from Calcutta.
   The pursuers dared not approach. The male and female elephants had intertwined their trunks.
   DANGER AT THE TAP
   According to Revelation 21:6, God will create a new world and say:
   “I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of water of life freely.”
   Freely? Meaning the new world won’t make room for the World Bank or the private companies that ply the noble trade in water?
   So it seems. Meanwhile, in the old world where we all still live, sources of water are as coveted as oil reserves, and are becoming battlegrounds.
   In Latin America, the first water war was the invasion of Mexico by Hernán Cortés. More recently, combat over the blue gold took place in Bolivia and Uruguay. In Bolivia, the people took to the streets and won back their lost water. In Uruguay, the people voted in a plebiscite and kept their water from being lost.
   DANGER ON THE LAND
   One afternoon in 1996, nineteen landless peasants were shot in cold blood by members of the military police of Pará state in the Brazilian Amazon.
   In Pará and in much of Brazil, the lords of the land reign over empty vastnesses, thanks to the right to inheritance or the right to thievery. These property rights give them the right to impunity. Ten years after the massacre, no one is in jail. Not the lords, not their thugs.
   But the tragedy did not frighten or discourage the landless farmers. The membership of their organization mushroomed, and so did their will to work the land, even though that is a capital offense and an act of incomprehensible madness.
   DANGER IN THE SKY
   In the year 2003, a tsunami of people washed away the government of Bolivia.
   The poor were sick and tired. Everything had been privatized, even the rainwater. A “for sale” sign had been hung on Bolivia, and they were going to sell it, Bolivians and all.
   The uprising shook El Alto, perched above the incredibly high city of La Paz, where the poorest of the poor work throughout their lives, day after day, chewing on their troubles. They are so high up they push the clouds when they walk, and every house has a door to heaven.
   Heaven was where those who died in the rebellion went. It was a lot closer than earth. Now they are shaking up paradise.
   DANGER IN THE CLOUDS
   According to incontrovertible testimony that has reached the Vatican, Antoni Gaudí merits sainthood for his numerous miracles.
   The artist who founded Catalan modernism died in 1926, and since then he has cured many who were incurable, found many who were unfindable, and sprinkled jobs and housing everywhere.
   The beatification process is under way.
   Heaven’s architecture had better watch out, for this chaste puritan who never missed a procession had a pagan hand, evident in the carnal labyrinths he designed for homes and parks.
   What will he do with the cloud he is given? Will he not invite us to stroll through Adam and Eve’s innards on the night of the first sin?
   INVENTORY OF THE WORLD
   Arthur Bispo do Rosario was black and poor, a sailor, a boxer, and, on God’s account, an artist.
   He lived in the Rio de Janeiro 
					     					 			 insane asylum.
   There, seven blue angels delivered an order from the divine: God wants an inventory taken of the world.
   The mission was monumental. Arthur worked day and night, every day, every night, until the winter of 1989 when, still immersed in the task, death took him by the hair and carried him off.
   The inventory, incomplete, consisted of scrap metal,
   broken glass,
   bald brooms,
   walked-through sneakers,
   emptied bottles,
   slept-in sheets,
   road-weary wheels,
   sea-worn sails,
   defeated flags,
   well-thumbed letters,
   forgotten words, and
   fallen rain.
   Arthur worked with garbage, because all garbage is life lived and from garbage comes everything the world is or has ever been. Nothing intact deserved a listing. Things intact die without ever being born. Life only pulsates in what bears scars.
   THE ROAD GOES ON
   When someone dies, when his time is up, what happens to the wanderings, desirings, and speakings that were called by his name?
   Among the Indians of the upper Orinoco, he who dies loses his name. His ashes are stirred into plantain soup or corn wine and everybody eats. After the ceremony no one ever names the dead person again: the dead one, now living in other bodies, called by other names, wanders, desires, and speaks.
   DANGER IN THE NIGHT
   Sleeping, she saw us.
   Helena dreamed we were waiting in line at an airport.
   A long line where every passenger had under the arm the pillow on which he or she had slept the night before.
   The pillows were sent through a dream-reading machine.
   The machine detected any dangerous dreams that threatened to disturb the peace.
   LOST AND FOUND
   The twentieth century, which was born proclaiming peace and justice, died bathed in blood. It passed on a world much more unjust than the one it inherited.
   The twenty-first century, which also arrived heralding peace and justice, is following in its predecessor’s footsteps.
   In my childhood, I was convinced that everything that went astray on earth ended up on the moon.
   But the astronauts found no sign of dangerous dreams or broken promises or hopes betrayed.
   If not on the moon, where might they be?
   Perhaps they were never misplaced.
   Perhaps they are in hiding here on earth. Waiting.
   INDEX OF NAMES
   Abbeville
   Abdallah, Susan
   Abdullah
   Abdullah, Sarhan
   Abdullah, Yasmin
   ABC
   Acapulco
   Achaemenes
   Acheson, Dean
   Achilles
   Acosta, Josep de
   Acuña, Cristóbal de
   Adam
   Adams, John
   Aegisthus
   Aeneas
   Aeschylus
   Afghanistan
   Africa
   Agamemnon
   Agrippina
   Aguilera, Griselda
   Akkra
   Al Qaeda
   Alabama
   Aleijadinho the Cripple, see Lisboa, Antonio Francisco
   Alexander, Alfonso
   Alexander VI
   Alexander the Great
   Alexandria
   Algeria
   Alhambra
   Ali, Imam
   Ali, Muhammad
   Al-Khwarizmi, Muhammed
   Al-Kamil, Sultan
   Allende, Salvador
   Al-Ma’arri, Abu Ali
   Almagro, Diego de
   Alps
   Al-Sukkar
   Aluzinnu
   Alvarado, Pedro de
   Álvarez Argüelles, Father Antonio
   Alwar, Maharaja of
   Ama, José Feliciano
   Amazon
   Amazons
   Ambrose, Saint
   Amecameca
   American Colonization Society
   Americas
   Amherst
   Amherst, Lord Jeffrey
   Amset
   Amsterdam
   Anaxagoras
   Andalusia
   Anderson, John Henry
   Andes
   Andrade, José Leandro
   Anenecuilco
   Angela of Foligno, Saint
   Anti-Imperialist League
   Antilles
   Antiochus
   Apaza, Gregoria
   Aphrodite
   Apollo
   Apollonius, Saint
   Aponte, Carlos
   Arabia
   Ararat, Mount
   Archimedes
   Arcimboldo, Giuseppe
   Ardila Gómez, Rubén
   Arenal, Concepción
   Argentina
   Argos
   Arias-Salgado, Gabriel
   Aristophanes
   Aristotle
   Arizona
   Arkah
   Arles
   Armstrong, Louis
   Arnaud-Amaury, Archbishop
   Arno River
   Artemis
   Artigas, José
   Asera
   Asia
   Aspasia
   d’Aspremont Lynden, Harold
   Assisi
   Assumar, Count of
   Assyria
   Astiz, Alfredo
   Asturias
   Atahualpa
   Athena
   Athens
   Atlanta
   Atlantis
   Atreus
   Augustine, Saint
   Augustus
   Auschwitz
   Austin
   Austin, Stephen
   Australia
   Austria
   Averroes
   Avicenna
   Ayesha
   Babel, Isaac
   Babylon
   Bacchus
   Bachelet, Michelle
   Baden-Powell, Colonel Robert
   Baghdad
   Baker, Josephine
   Baku
   Bakunin, Mikhail
   Balestrino, Esther
   Balkans
   Bangladesh
   Barcelona
   Barnard, Christian
   Baroda, Maharaja of
   Bartola
   BASF
   Basra
   Bassa, Ferrer
   Bastidas, Micaela
   Bastidas, Rodrigo de
   Battle, José
   Baudelaire, Charles
   Bayer
   Bayley, George
   Beethoven, Ludvig von
   Behmai
   Beijing
   Belgium
   Bell, hermanos, see Brontë, sisters
   Benedict XVI
   Bengal
   Berger, John
   Berlin
   Bernard, Saint
   Bernardo de Tolosa
   Bernhardt, Sarah
   Bertelsmann
   Betances, Ramón
   Bethlehem
   Beveridge, Albert
   Bezerra, João
   Béziers
   Bharatpur, Mahraja of
   Bhopal
   Bierce, Ambrose
   Bingen
   Bioho, Domingo
   Bismarck
   Black Hills
   Black Panthers
   Black Sea
   Blumenbach, Johann Friedrich
   BMW
   Boccaccio
   Boeotia
   Bogotá
   Bolden, Buddy
   Bolivia
   Bolívar, Simón
   Bologna
   Bombay
   Bonaparte, Napoleon
   Bonhoeffer, Dietrich
   Borges, Jorge Luis
   Borgia, Rodrigo, see Alexander VI Born, Bertrand de
   Borromeo, Carlo
   Bosch
   Bosch, Hieronymus
   Bosporus
   Boss, Hugo
   Boston
   Botticelli, Sandro
   Bouzid, Saâl
   Bowring, John
					     					 			/>   Bragança y Bourbon, Pedro de Alcântara Francisco Antônio João Carlos Xavier de Paula Miguel Rafael Joaquim José Gonzaga Pascoal Cipriano Serafim de, see Pedro I
   Brandenburg, Archbishop of
   Brazil
   Brecht, Bertolt
   Brillat-Savarin, Jean Anthelme
   British Museum
   Brontë sisters
   Brooklyn
   Brunete
   Bruno, Giordano
   Brussels
   Brutus, Marcus
   Büchner, Georg
   Buckingham, Duke of
   Buenos Aires
   Buffalo Bill
   Bukharin, Nikolai
   Bull of Heaven
   Bülow, Chancellor von
   Burkina Faso
   Bush, George
   Bush, George W.
   Bush, Prescott
   Byron, Ada
   Byron, Lord
   Byzantium
   Cádiz
   Caeiro, Alberto
   Cairo
   Calcutta
   California
   Callender, James
   Callixtus III
   Calvin, John
   Cambodia
   Campaoré, Blaise
   Campos, Álvaro de
   Cancuc
   Cang Jie
   Cangas
   Canning, George
   Capetown
   Capua
   Carabanchel Prison
   Caribbean
   Carlos, John
   Caron, George
   Carrera, José Miguel
   Cartagena de Indias
   Carter, Robert
   Carvallo, Luis Alfonso de
   Casaldáliga, Pedro
   Casasola, Augustín Víctor
   Cascais
   Cascia
   Caspian Sea
   Cassandra
   Castañega, Father Martín de
   Castelli, Juan José
   Castile
   Castro, Fidel
   Catamarca