Married to Bhutan by Linda Leaming

'You're so fat!' another old woman says as she gets a good grip on my upper arm, zeroing in on the place where I feel most vulnerable and, well, fat. But this onversation has no room for my vanity. I know what to say.

'Do you really mean it, or are you just trying to flatter me?' I ask. Saying someone is fat isn't an insult in the villages of Bhutan; it's a compliment. Fat doesn't mean fat so much as it means healthy and prosperous.

'No flattery,' she says. 'I mean it! You're really fat!'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you,' I say. 'You're fat, too.'

She smiles shyly. I've made her day.

Most Bizarre Suicide

Recount of the story told by Don Harper Mills, the President of American Academy of Forensic Sciences at the awards dinner during the annual AAFS meeting in San Diego in 1987.

On March 23 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a gunshot wound of the head. Mr Opus had jumped from the top of a 10-storey building with the intent to commit suicide. He left a note to the effect indicating his despondency.

As he passed the 9th floor on the way down, his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast through a window, killing him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a safety net had been installed just below the 8th floor level to protect some window washers and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he had planned.

Ordinarily, a person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds, even though the mechanism might not be what he intended, is still defined as committing suicide. That Mr Opus was shot on the way to certain death, but probably would not have been successful because of the safety net, caused the medical examiner to feel that he had homicide on his hands."

Further investigation led to the discovery that the room on the 9th floor, where the shotgun blast emanated, was occupied by an elderly man  and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he was threatening her with a shotgun. The man was so upset that when he pulled the trigger he completely missed his wife and the pellets went through the window striking Mr Opus.

When one intends to kill subject 'A' but kills subject 'B' in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject 'B'.

When confronted with the murder charge the old man and his wife were both adamant and both said that they thought the shotgun was unloaded. The old man said it was a long-standing habit to threaten his wife with an unloaded shotgun. He had no intention to murder her.

Therefore the killing of Mr Opus appeared to be an accident; that is, if the gun had been accidentally loaded.

The continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old couple's son loading the shotgun about 6 weeks prior to the fatal accident. It transpired that the old lady had cut off her son's financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that his father would shoot his mother.

Since the loader of the gun was aware of this, he was guilty of the murder even though he didn't actually pull the trigger.

The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus

Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son was, in fact, Ronald Opus.

He had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the 10-storey building on March 23rd, only to be killed by a shotgun blast through the 9th storey window. The son had actually murdered himself so the medical examiner closed the case as a suicide.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The first time I was ever called ugly, I was thirteen.

'Why you crying, girl?' Constantine asked me in the kitchen.

I told her what the boy had called me, tears streaming down my face.

'Well? Is you?'

I blinked, paused my crying.

'Is I what?'

'Now you look a here. Ugly live up on the inside. Ugly be a hurtful, mean person. Is you one a them peoples?'

'I don't know. I don't think so,' I sobbed.

Constantine sat down next to me, at the kitchen table. I heard the cracking of her swollen joints. She pressed her thumb hard in the palm of my hand, something we both knew meant Listen. Listen to me.

'Every morning, until you dead in the ground, you gone have to make this decision. You gone have to ask yourself, am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?'

I nodded that I understood. I was just smart enough to realize she meant white people. And even though I still felt miserable, and knew that I was, most likely, ugly, it was the first time she ever talked to me like I was something besides my mother's white child. All my life I'd been told what to believe about politics, coloureds, being a girl. But with Constantine's thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe.

The Hummingbird's Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea

La Hija de la Chuparrosa

pp 268-270 
...
"Our power comes from the earth," Huila said. "Itom Achai sends us life through the ground. Look at the plants! Why do they have roots? Do they have roots in the air?"
Teresita smiled and shook her head. She could recite Huila-speak in her sleep.
"Look at the Yoris." Huila spit. "Shoes, boots, wagons, floors. They don't remember the earth."
She planted her feet wide, sagged on her knees a little.
"Stand inside the earth. Feel yourself standing inside it. Once you connect with the earth, nothing can move you Not a hurricane, not a thousand cowboys."
She bobbed.
Teresita thought Huila looked as if she needed to go to the bathroom.
...
"In the earth," Huila said. "Say it. I am in the earth."
"I am in the earth."
"And the earth is in me."
"And the earth is in me."
They breathed. They felt their lungs fill with sky, and they let the dark clouds inside them flow out. Then they connected to the earth.
"Lift the toes, and press with the balls of your feet."
"I feel silly."
"Part of being a medicine woman is feeling silly."
Teresita stood before her, digging into the ground with her feet.
"Now, push into the ground with the inside of your foot, all the way to the heel. You've got prongs in your heels, like a pitchfork. Two on the inside, two on the outside. Plug in the two on the inside of your heel. Push into the earth. Then you have roots, child. Do you see that?"
"Roots. In my heels."
"Yes. Plant them. Deep in the soil. Your roots."
Huila breathed out in a long swirl of nose whistling.
"Feel the earth, keep the integrity of the heart. Keep the spine in line. Let your heart shine. Relax, don't strain. The white man always has to strain. Has to flex his muscles. Be soft. Be like water. Water is soft, and it is the most powerful force on earth."
...
"Let your knee bob a little. There, connect. The earth's strength will spiral up your legs, to the inside. You'll feel it bring your knees together. Feel it? Now, feel those outer roots on your feet. Push your heels all the way in. Now the rest of your foot. You're standing in the earth now. Another flow of power is going up the outside of your legs. Feel it spiral. Soon, nothing will be able to overpower you."
"I can't be hurt?" Teresita said.
"I never said that. We'll all be hurt, child. We will all be hurt. What I said was: they shall not overpower you."
"I think I understand."
"I doubt it."
Crazy old woman.
Teresita shook her head.
"All right, I don't understand."
"People always want to understand everything," Huila sniffed. "Do you understand how the sun works? Yet it rises every day, whether you understand it or not. Do we understand how the vine makes grape, and the grape makes wine? No. You don't need to understand any of it. What I want you to do is to remember it and believe it."
"I will remember."
"Do you believe?"
"I don't know."
"That is Faith," Huila said. "Faith, like Grace, is a gift, you see. It's one of those riddles nobody can understand. Nina - God gives you the gift of believing in God. If you cannot believe in God, then how can God punish you for your lack of Faith?"
"I don't know."
"Damned right, you don't know. It's a mystery."
Teresita thought for a moment.
"Faith," she finally said.
"Correct." The old one nodded. "Believe. You might never get explanations."
"And if I cannot believe, what then?"
"Then," said Huila, "God sends foolish old women like me to try to help you."
They held hands as they walked back toward the rancho.