Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero

Artem Berman: Hello, hello, Coca-Cola!

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Hello!

Artem Berman: Yes!

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: How are you?

Artem Berman: All good, more or less.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I can't hear you. Now I can.

Artem Berman: Yes, all good now. Can you hear me?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Are you still in bed?

Artem Berman: Yes, today I'm starting the day a bit later.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Did you sleep badly last night?

Artem Berman: No, no! I slept well. I woke up at nine, but I'm taking it easy... since I have my tablet, I can work even while I'm in bed. Now I'll open the questions. If you like, we can keep going with these questions or others, since right now I'm not following any scientific work plan a hundred percent (for my thesis). So, since we've talked about this interview, you can go on at more or less length... You can say whatever you want within your comfort zone. Oh, and yes, I'm recording; after all, I'll send you the text in writing. You can edit it or change whatever you want.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Ah, okay!

Artem Berman: In the end I'll edit it and send you the final result before publishing it. Okay, let's go. The first questions, as always, are a bit silly, but let's go with them. Do you allow the data from this interview to be used for scientific research? There's no research now, but maybe in the future...

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Well, you never know, you never know where your interview will end up. You can put the questions to me however you want or please.

Artem Berman: Okay, let's go then: do you allow the data from this interview to be used for scientific research?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Yes, I allow it.

Artem Berman: Do you allow the interview to be published on the website after you've reviewed the content?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Yes, of course, I allow it.

Artem Berman: Do you want to publish the interview under your own name or under some pseudonym?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: La Chinchi, that's how I like it, you already know my answer, haha.

Artem Berman: Yes, let's go with your name. What do I know, you always have to ask, it's good manners to ask, you know? Okay, we already know your name; the contact information, e-mail, phone, we know that too; how old are you?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: 49 years old.

Artem Berman: Gender?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: For now, female; you never know if I'll make a change.

Artem Berman: Yes, ah, it's a good question in your case: do you live independently or with parents, a partner, or other people?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I live with my three children on alternating weeks.

Artem Berman: What kind of disability do you have? The information you want to share: what happened, at what age, how it affected your life?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I have a visible and obvious physical disability, and other not-so-visible disabilities, haha. The disability is the result of a spinal cord injury from a motorcycle traffic accident at the age of thirty. At that time I worked as a veterinarian. Imagine, Artem, at thirty, in the middle of my working life, with a degree in veterinary medicine (a specialist in equines, reproduction and artificial insemination, and starting to do embryo transfer). I was single, I lived in Fuengirola, and I earned enough money to have an acceptable standard of living. I was doing what I liked most at that moment, working at what I was most passionate about, with the animals I adored. I was and am a lover of horses.

Artem Berman: And how did this accident affect your life at that moment? You had your career, you had your job, what else did you have... Was it a very traumatic experience, did it change your life completely?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: That traffic accident paralyzed me; it changed my life completely, on the professional level as well as the personal and emotional one. Everything changed and everything collapsed. My legs were paralyzed and my life was paralyzed. It was a change that came by surprise, unexpected, sudden. I never imagined something like that could happen to me.

Artem Berman: I understand... And how did the rehabilitation process begin? I mean, how did you start to reintegrate into this life again? I imagine the medical rehabilitation period lasted quite a long time, in hospitals... but afterward there was some moment when you started, let's say, to live again. When did this happen?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Let's take it in parts, if that's all right with you, Artem. I think my rehabilitation had two phases and on two different levels. Physical rehabilitation on one side and emotional and mental rehabilitation on the other.
The rehabilitation at the level of the physical body is more or less obvious. Physical exercise, many hours of gym, swimming pool and physiotherapy with professionals for a fragile body. This began the very moment they first put me upright (upright means putting you in a vertical position in a bed after a month lying horizontally).
The second phase is the emotional and mental rehabilitation that began with accepting myself and that new reality. This applies to any "traumatic process" that life presents to us (the death of a loved one, a break-up, losing a job). Being able to think and feel in another way so as to feel better and accept the new reality. Within acceptance there is another acceptance that is very important: social acceptance. I think they're different, but both go hand in hand. Let me explain: when we accept ourselves and accept the new situation, society seems to accept you too; but if you live in denial and in non-acceptance of your new reality, society somehow perceives it and presents you with more difficulties. Acceptance leads you to emotional and mental balance, and therefore to living life again and seeking happiness. It's true that this took quite a long time to arrive. That new situation is very hard and difficult to manage.
How does rehabilitation begin, or where does it begin? Physical rehabilitation begins in Toledo a month after the accident, at the hospital where I was admitted, the Hospital Nacional de Parapléjicos. At whose hand? Well, professionals (doctors, rehabilitation specialists, nurses and orderlies). The second one, emotional and mental rehabilitation, begins with my family and friends, who are the ones who encourage me, support me and show me their affection. They are the ones who make me see the positive side of life and of the new opportunities that would come my way. My brothers and sisters, my grandma, my mother and friends. Physically, the person who gave me the most in those moments of difficulty was the person who would later be the father of my children. He was a senior swimming and water polo coach, and he taught me to swim again. Water was and is a medium that lets you move with almost no gravity. Besides, he had been through a traumatic accident just like me, one in which he almost lost his life, and his past experience gave me a great deal to face my own fears. He made me see that goals are overcome little by little and that you have to be persevering.

Artem Berman: A question I have about this: here in Spain, from what I see and from what I know, the situation of people with disabilities is quite different from the situation in countries like Ukraine. So I imagine there are some special social rehabilitation programs, I mean work with psychologists and other things of that sort...

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Ah, okay.

Artem Berman: Like group work, and so on. Can you tell me something about this?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Of course. The first work of emotional, psychological and mental rehabilitation began at the hospital in Málaga a week after the accident. There they offered me the help of a psychologist and of a priest, and I rejected both. In Toledo they again offered me the help of another professional therapist. I only attended the therapy on the first day. When I entered the psychologist's room, there were about 12 or 15 people sitting in wheelchairs and arranged in a half-moon shape. The psychologist introduced me to the group by saying: "She has a spinal cord injury at the D12-L1 level." That hit me so hard that I said: I am Montse Chinchilla and I have a spinal cord injury at the D12-L1 level. I decided to stay in the therapy that day despite my discomfort, but I did not go back to any of the therapies for the whole time I was in that hospital. So my answer to your question is yes, the Spanish health system offers you help, but maybe not at the moment you need it, nor in the way you need it, nor at the hand of the right person. At that time it was no use to me, because I was the first one who didn't want help, since I hadn't accepted my situation. At later moments in my life, in 2013, when I was really bad, I looked for a professional and they helped me enormously. They, the professionals, guide you in how to manage the emotional and mental world. They stir you up if they're really good professionals, because I have to say there's all kinds. On this second occasion the health system gave me no help of any kind. I had to pay for the therapies out of my own pocket. By my own personal decision I began to read self-help books, study neuro-linguistic programming and practice mindfulness. The professionals I found in the hospitals didn't know how to help me, perhaps because I rejected their help because I wasn't ready, or because I was blocked, I don't know why. But when I really needed them, I found them and I didn't hesitate to pay whatever it took in exchange for getting out of my blocks and fears.

Artem Berman: I understand. Of course there are always factors that play for and against social rehabilitation. What were the obstacles on your road toward "the new normal"?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: The first obstacle I run into at that moment of my life (2002) are the physical barriers. Sitting in a wheelchair you realize that a simple step is a barrier that doesn't let you get where you want. If there's no elevator, you can't go up or down. So the first limitations you come across are at the physical level, of course. And these are followed by what I consider the most important ones: the mental barriers (your thoughts) and the emotional ones (lacking proper emotional education and management since my childhood).

Artem Berman: Well, with those barriers we understand it perfectly. If we consider your current physical capacities, you always find new limitations around you, but on the part of society, here in Spain, do you feel accepted? Do they perceive you as an equal? Are the governments, both local and national, trying to help this group? Can a person in a wheelchair here in Spain really feel like part of society? Tell me what the situation is like in Spain.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: The way society sees us has changed nowadays, and it has changed for the better. It's been 19 years since my accident. I can tell you how the situation was in Spain back then and how I see it now. I think people at that time, in general, or at least this is how I perceived it, were not used to or prepared to deal with young people with disabilities. It was thought that disability is a thing of older people, and the fact of being a young woman who goes around sitting in a wheelchair makes them see you as a person who is not qualified enough to live independently. Let me give you an example, Artem: the act of going to a restaurant, okay? When the waiter comes over, he asks the person accompanying you what "you" are going to have. And you say: nooo, exxcuuuse me, I go around sitting in a wheelchair, but I still know what I like and don't like to eat. At that moment you realize that going around sitting in a wheelchair is a social barrier toward the person with a disability. Let me give you another example, Artem: I go to buy a car and I'm accompanied by the father of my children; he makes it clear to the man at the dealership that I'm the one who's going to buy the car, that it's for me, and that he must explain things to me. In less than a minute of conversation the salesman was already explaining to my then-husband what the car was like, the price... etc. At that moment I felt ignored. That man wasn't capable of holding eye contact with me. In those moments I perceived it as a rejection, but now I know they weren't rejecting me; what was happening was that they don't know how to treat a person with a disability out of ignorance. They don't know, they don't know how to address you because of the fact that you're sitting in a wheelchair. Society needs to be more aware of disability, of all disabilities, the most apparent and visible ones (the wheelchair) and the not-so-visible ones (like an organic or mental disability).

Artem Berman: Yes, for example, in a high percentage of cases I still find myself in the same situation, and it even amuses me a lot. You know, I usually go out with an assistant, and the problem we have is that the guy speaks only Russian, he speaks neither English nor Spanish. Sometimes I'm in a restaurant and a waiter or someone there starts talking to him even when I'm the one asking something. So they answer him, without talking to me, for the reasons you mentioned before. And I think: okay, let's enjoy the process. At that moment I stay silent and start waiting for the conversation to resolve. So they speak to my assistant in Spanish and he can't answer them. Then they try to speak to him in English and that doesn't work either. And only afterward, when I see that this guy or girl is fed up with the whole thing, do I start talking to them and I tell them to speak directly to me. Doesn't that seem more logical to you? Finally, and after a headache, we can solve this problem. What I'm talking about is a reality, it happens to a lot of people in our situation. I know people don't do it with any bad intention, but rather that they haven't been trained or don't have the ability to handle themselves in this area. Next we're going to talk about the subject of education; I'm going to ask you some questions about it. What level of education did you have before your accident?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: My education before the accident was a degree in veterinary medicine, and I had started a minor thesis in equine medicine at the faculty of Córdoba, but I never got to finish it. A degree in veterinary medicine, clinical specialty.

Artem Berman: What academic training did you do after the accident?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: After the accident I continued my training with an MBA Master's at the Complutense University of Madrid, funded by the Fundación ONCE (2002/03). I tried to go back to the world of equine veterinary medicine and did a specialization course in artificial reproduction techniques and embryo transfer. Well, Artem, I really did it thinking that someday I could work with horses again at an equine hospital, applying the new embryo transfer techniques. I considered running my own reproduction center or working at a hospital as a manager or director. I had the hope and the dream of carrying it out, but that stayed a dream. Sitting in a wheelchair devalues you as a person, it makes you have a perception of yourself of insecurity. The difficulties I came across day to day because of the architectural barriers and the lack of labor inclusion pushed me back. I put my focus on my rehabilitation and on starting a family, and in the years that followed I got married and had 3 children. By 2013 I was already divorced, and a short time later I took up studies and training again. I'm one of those people who like to keep learning. I've done training courses on Accessible Tourism and recently, in 2019/20, I completed a Master's in Accessibility for Smart City at the University of Jaén. I also have the Master, the Practitioner and the Trainer in NLP (neuro-linguistic programming).

Artem Berman: Okay, so the accident then influenced your choice of various elements...

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I think everything I did and have done in my life, before and after my accident, has been related to the situation I was living in at that moment. I chose, and I still choose today, according to my preferences, possibilities, capacities and adapting to the circumstances. After the MBA Master's I said to myself, well, with everything I've learned, my knowledge of business management and of veterinary medicine, I could start a business, a small company, a small-animal clinic. It wasn't what I was most passionate about in the animal world, I admit it, but it had to do with my professional world, I had a veterinary degree and I could apply the knowledge acquired in the MBA. I reinvented myself at the work level and, faced with the "new situation," I became a businesswoman.
At later moments in my life, closer to the present, I began to study and go deeper into neuroscience and how the brain works. My scientific streak as the veterinarian I am must have come out. So I set out to study how the brain works. I'm passionate about knowing how we function at the mental level and how important beliefs, values, habits, behaviors... etc. are. Most of our life we go on automatic mode, without being conscious of the present moment. I admit that my greatest lesson in life has been getting to know myself.

Artem Berman: No, not "how," but "whether."

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: What?

Artem Berman: No, not how the brain works, but whether it works.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Haha. Always joking.

Artem Berman: Okay, I'm going to ask you more about your work history shortly, but for now another little question whose answer I imagine, but even so I want to ask you: how is the situation in Spain on the part of educational institutions toward people with special needs? Do they have some special programs at the academic level? Are these training centers adapted or not? I mean, when you were continuing your education, did you have any physical obstacles? Were the instructors aware of your environment and needs?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I can tell you that over these 19 years I've seen big changes in every sense. Not only at the physical level, of physical or architectural barriers, but also at the level of awareness of society in general about what disability is. I think there have indeed been big changes, but there's still a lot to do. I enrolled in tourism, at the faculty of tourism of the University of Málaga in 2004, and it was completely accessible. It had a parking space for people with reduced mobility right at the door of the faculty, a ramp, free access to the classroom, and I don't remember having any problem with classmates or professors. At the level of social awareness and inclusion, that begins in the schools. Inclusion is talked about with the children, and they (children and parents) are made to see the importance of an inclusive education. Awareness talks are given to the parents, but 2 parents show up, a shame, because they are the example for their children. There have been small children who have asked me: why do you go around sitting in a wheelchair? And before they could answer the child's normal curiosity, the father or mother scolded them and pulled them away. That's a pity. What message is that giving their child? What does a child think when their father or mother pulls them away from a woman who goes around sitting in a wheelchair? In public and private schools, talks are given on emotional intelligence and social inclusion for the parents, and almost none show up. We, the fathers and mothers, must be the example of how and what inclusion is, treating all people equally. There have been changes in awareness regarding equality, inclusion, the most vulnerable, the most disadvantaged, but there's still a lot of work to do on this subject.

Artem Berman: I understand. Okay, let's continue then with your work history now. As I imagine, you had to leave that job you did before having the trauma, for obvious reasons. After the accident you told me you had a small veterinary clinic. Tell me now about your motivation to start over. Whether work in general is important in life as you see it. Why did you leave some jobs?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: From my first job I don't leave, I say they take me out, they throw me out. To do an ultrasound on a mare (to tell whether or not she's pregnant) requires putting your hand into the rectum almost up to your shoulder. To do that sitting in a wheelchair was almost impossible. So from the first job they take me out, since I can't keep doing it. And from the second one, the veterinary clinic, well, what takes me out is my ambition and drive to better myself. I'm a person who moves through challenges, through goals and objectives, and when I reach a goal, I set myself a new one, and so on. At the clinic there were two of us managing a small business. A business that grew very fast and required more resources to keep growing. If we didn't keep expanding the business, it made no sense for two people to be bosses (that's how I saw it). So I decided to leave it. There were no longer new goals, and for me it made no sense to continue a stagnant project (stagnant waters rot). So I decided to leave it and give myself the chance to start a new project.

Artem Berman: Another question. Since you worked more or less for yourself and you have this entrepreneurial spirit... I'd like to ask you, even at the risk of being intrusive, were the places where you worked adapted?
The veterinary clinic was adapted because we designed it ourselves. We made the ramp at the entrance and the doors wide enough. Yes, it was. However, a box, the racetrack, the riding center, were not accessible. You can't put doors on a field, haha.

Artem Berman: Right now you don't work. Why? Being such an active person, why don't you have work activity? In your opinion, what are the main reasons that make it impossible for a person with a disability to return to the labor market...

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Mmmm, good question! In my case, since I was self-employed, when I had the accident they granted me a disability pension. That pension can be reduced or disappear if you start working again. Some companies have wanted to hire me and have been flexible with the schedule and conditions. The advantages of working are practically nil or even counterproductive for me, I'd say. The aid is usually given to the companies that hire people with disabilities rather than to the person who has the disability. In Spain, inclusive employment is not encouraged, nor the incorporation of people with disabilities into the working world under the same conditions. It is not 100 percent compatible to receive financial aid for the disability and a respectable salary. And it's not fair, because we have many more expenses (on orthopedic and technical material, on the help of a third person at home, car adaptations, rehabilitation, physiotherapy). All this can't be paid with the average salary of a Spaniard, nor with the aid the government gives you. I at least need all these things to be able to live with a halfway decent quality, and with 1,000 euros it's impossible to face all the personal expenses on top of the expenses of 3 minor children.
Why don't I work? Well, there are several reasons. First, when I left the veterinary clinic, I was at a moment in my life of many emotional, personal and work difficulties. There, at the clinic, I can't say I worked as a veterinarian, because I was a shareholder and ran the management. It wasn't a comfortable situation with my partner. I hardly enjoyed my children. I had accumulated fatigue and needed a rest. It had been 12 years of struggle to recover physically, mentally and emotionally; I had three children, new training, and I had created a business. I couldn't take any more, I needed to dedicate time to myself before life stopped me in my tracks again. I decided to stop, I said STOP. I thought about taking a sabbatical year or two just to, well, to see and realize what was happening in my life. The main reason I left work was that I wasn't well emotionally and I had a family that needed me and I needed them. I invested and spent a lot of time managing the veterinary clinic, doing my rehabilitation, and little time with the family, my hobbies and leisure. I decided to dedicate more time to my family, to my children, and not so much to the working world. The second reason, phew, I think it's because I also haven't found a job that gives me enough on a personal level, of personal and professional satisfaction, to sacrifice the time I could spend with my children, my friends, my family, nor a good salary to face the expenses and have quality of life. Until now I haven't found a job that really compensates me with a salary well-paid enough to face all the expenses I have. And finally, another reason is the lack of encouragement of work among people with disabilities on the part of the government. I know what my limitations and the difficulties I have are. That's why I receive a pension or aid. If I start working, I'm going to earn the same as if I stay home with the pension money the government gives me. That is, I have two options: one, receive my pension and dedicate myself to the children, the house, the homework, my rehabilitation, my exercises, my family, my friends, my volunteer work... or two, go to work for a thousand-something euros, deprive myself of time with the family and give up time for rehabilitation and mental and physical health. In the end, it's not worth it. I'd work 8 hours, I wouldn't be with my family, nor would I have time for my rehabilitation. If you put on one side of the scale pension + time, and on the other salary − time, I think the scale tips quickly toward the first side. You have to weigh very carefully how much one thing gives me and the other, and how much I gain or lose if I choose one or the other.

Artem Berman: In Ukraine, for example, I did about 10 interviews with people with various disabilities, and it's very different in my country of origin. As we talked about before, you can imagine that with a pension of 80€ and a cost of living more or less similar to here in Spain, people don't have the option of not working. You can't survive on that pension. You can't survive physically. The pension as such isn't even enough to cover the cost of medications for a month. You can easily buy some antibiotics paying that same amount of 80€ and you have nothing for anything else. So it's quite complicated, and it's very different from Spain. It seems to me it wouldn't be bad to set some kind of threshold. If the government offered around 600€ as a fixed pension that would always be yours, maybe you could choose to keep it and not work, or work anyway and have the chance to earn more. I'm not a member of the Spanish parliament, nor of the executive, but it seems to me that in reality they have to think about something like this to really establish this balance and promote the interest of people with disabilities in taking part in working life. Perhaps among these people there could arise (and do arise) scientists or academics motivated by the contribution to social welfare and to the progress of this society in general.
In fact, what do you think: is work as an activity something important for the reintegration of a person after that accident, or not so much?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Yes, yes, it's very important for any person, whatever their age and regardless of having a disability or not, to contribute your grain of sand and to work at something to earn your own money. Every person should be occupied and integrated into the working world. And if on top of that it's a person with low self-esteem, worried about their illness or disability, it's even more important to socialize and relate to more people in order to feel useful doing a job.

Artem Berman: And when you talked with members of your family, what was their opinion about you working? Did they think it was better for you to stay home?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: The truth is that almost always I do what I want. I ask, I listen and I make my own decisions.

Artem Berman: If you never had to worry about the material side of work, for example, let's say you had 25 million euros in your bank account, could you imagine life without working? Just enjoying a contemplative life? Or would you still like to take on some kind of work or some activity that personally motivated you... how do you perceive work, as an obligation or as a luxury?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I perceive work as something you do because you like it and you're passionate about it. A job shouldn't be an effort, a struggle, a "I have no choice if I want to bring money home." A job should be something that gives you something both on a personal level and an economic one, and of course, both are important. Economic contribution and personal development. Being able to take it as the place where you spend a while and it adds to your life in a positive way. In fact, I tell my children: study what you like, you'll work later at what you like. And let one thing not affect the other. You can study something you might like a lot, for example, history or geography, and if afterward you don't see yourself working as a teacher, well, you work at something you like. And if you like working, I don't know, as a salesperson, well, work as a salesperson or at something you're passionate about. Study what you like and then work at what you like and what gives you something.

Artem Berman: And what else is in your life?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: We don't have that much time. Haha. I've been a very sporty person. I liked and I still really like doing sport. When I worked I never had time to do it, but the disability has allowed me to practice many kinds of sport. Skiing, hippotherapy, canoeing, diving, swimming, water skiing, basketball, ping-pong, cycling, etc. I think I've tried almost all sports, haha. Regardless of the disability you have, nowadays you can practice almost all sports. As a result of the disability, sport has come into my life to stay.

Artem Berman: I completely agree. Tell me... You've had some quite difficult experiences in your life, but you managed to take the reins of your life back and keep living and enjoying. Of all those experiences, what were the most significant lessons you learned?

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: The most important lessons...
That you don't value life until you see death up close.
That in life the great opportunities also present themselves in the form of great difficulties.
That values change throughout our life and that beliefs are only beliefs that condition our way of seeing reality.
That in life the important thing is not knowing how to fall, but knowing how to get up.
That life is a roller coaster, of ups and downs with different levels. The important thing is to know that you reach the end of the ride, and that's where you get off. And in the meantime you have to enjoy the journey.
The importance of being flexible in life, since it's not the strongest who survives, but the one who adapts best.
Finally, practicing and doing sport and eating healthy is essential to being well physically, mentally and emotionally.

Artem Berman: Perfect. We're nearing the end. So finally I'd like you to finish some open questions. That is, for you to define yourself in your own words by finishing some sentences, for example, "I am..."

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I am... I think everything you put after "I am" makes you smaller. I can tell you, I am a veterinarian, I am a mother, I am a daughter, I am a friend, but this makes me smaller. Better to simply say "I am" without labels.

Artem Berman: Perfect! "Before my accident I was..."

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Oh, a fighter. I always swam against the current. Like a fish that swims against the current. I was... a stubborn and perfectionist fish.

Artem Berman: Okay, "I will be...", in the future.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: I will be... the mermaid, who lets herself be carried and caressed by the waters and swims with the current.

Artem Berman: I love it, "I want..."

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: Oh, I want to see a happy world.

Artem Berman: And, "my great fear and my great hope," one and the other.

Montserrat Chinchilla Garcia Ligero: My great fear, oof, I think we've been through so many things in life that we're now afraid of few things, right? I'm not even afraid of death. If a fear comes (and it will), I'll face it.
And my great hope, well, I don't know, I don't know which one, I don't know what to answer, because I have the hope of... well, yes, the hope of leaving something that contributes to and improves the world. I'd say to leave a mark, let's say.

Artem Berman: Yes, I understand you perfectly. Now we really have finally finished the interview. It's been a real pleasure, you're a delight!