After seven years of not having any contact, we got in touch again thanks to social networks. He appeared on Facebook one day and we became friends there. At that time, 2009-2010, I was recovering from a burnout that left me isolated at home and from which I more or less rehabilitated little by little and with a lot of patience. One day I saw that Martin had posted something about the military dictatorship and I dared to ask him if he thought he was the son of the disappeared too. I told him about my suspicions and that I had approached the Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo before moving to Sweden, but that I didn’t leave the DNA for them to find a match at their DNA bank. He, with the self assurance that characterizes him, answered me: "I don't think I am a son of  a disappeared person, but I'm about to travel to Argentina. Do you want me to find out if you are?" I answered yes, not really understanding how he could find out such a thing, and at the same time not daring to ask him. Martín traveled to Argentina and returned a few weeks later, but I wasn’t ready to hear the answer. It wasn't until a year later that I worked up enough courage to do it and his response was: “I was afraid you would ask me, because the answer is hard. Yes you are. I, on the other hand, am not." We talked about it via Skype chat. I kept asking him questions, but he told me that this, was the only information he had been given. I asked if I could speak directly to them, and more importantly, who "they" were. “Nata, these are dangerous people. Don't get involved" he replied.It was first in 2018 that I understood what he meant. Since he arrived in Switzerland, Martín has been working in security, thanks to his past in the police and military. And thanks to the fact that he worked very hard and consistently, he achieved a very good economic and social status. Basically, Martín, after surviving Argentina, reinvented himself and rebuilt his life. A bit like me, if you take away economic success and social status.After he told me what he had found out, we lost contact again. I always take very strong news very calmly, and at that time, I was just coming out of my peak of depression, and I wanted to dedicate myself more than anything to producing my music and rebuilding my life from a healthier place. I was 33 years old and had released my first single produced by me, "No te doy más" through my record company "El Sol y la Luna music". -If I may say, quite an achievement for someone who two years before could barely get out of bed, answer the phone or leave the house. The road to rehabilitation from a burnout, or any type of depression or trauma is long, complex, and you have to have a lot of patience and perseverance. In my case, at that time at least, it consisted of training, going to my twelve-step meetings, meditating, and going to talks by my friend Jeremy Halpin, an expert in Chinese medicine, about the connection between energy, the body, the emotions and the soul.I was determined to recover, and dealing with the search for my biological origin was a luxury I could not afford at the time. In theory, I understood how essential a person's biological identity is, but the whole thing was so overwhelming that I didn't see a reason to go there. I decided that it was the moment in my life to build my future the way I wanted to build it. It was already 2012 and it was time to invest in my career, have economic stability, and eventually later on, if that was what we wanted with my partner, even think about having a family. But as I usually say, I can always count on my life to ruin my plans. 2013 arrived and with that February the death of my mother. The search could not wait any longer. It was written in the stars. From that year on, the noise inside me would stun me until I listened to it. Slowly but surely, the door opened, and I felt like Alice in Wonderland tumbling down the rabbit hole.I already talked about what followed. It was going to the Grandmothers of  Plaza de Mayo and eventually leaving my DNA at the end of 2015, to see if my biological family was in their genetic data bank.That year I had won a scholarship from the Swedish Arts Grants committee, to work with the argentine artist Kevin Johansen and I took the opportunity to travel to Argentina and stay until I received the result, which as I already mentioned was negative.I returned to Sweden in April 2016 to resume my Swedish life with a plan: I was going to lock myself in my studio, get depressed and work. That great emptiness and hopelessness that the result had left me was going to consume me, and I was going to let it. I was not going to resist, I was not going to have more hope, I was not going to try to find the positive side of all this, or try to understand what I learned from it. I was just going to sink into my pain and self-pity.But Simon, and John, my partner at the time, had other plans. The two came together one day to my studio and ambushed me saying: “That's it? Are you going to give up?" They insisted for a long time, they gave me all the reasons why I couldn't give up, they very seriously explained to me that if I did I would regret it in the future and after all, if we had already come this far, why not continue a little bit more? That someone had to know something more. Somehow there should be another way to continue the search. Why not hire a private detective?To which I finally said: "Well, maybe there is someone who can help me."It is in this part when I tell this story, that a character from the Mexican television children's program “Chespirito” appears in my head. A superhero with whom I grew up, who wore a huge heart on his chest as an emblem, the red Cricket. The scene was always the same, someone was in trouble and said "And now, who can defend us?" and out of nowhere he appeared, and everyone yelled "the red cricket!" " El Chapulín colorado" to which he responded "You didn't count on my cleverness" "No contaban con mi astucia!"and saved the day.So there, when Simón mentioned the private detective I thought: “I'm going to call my Red cricket”. I sent Martin a message right there and of course he answered within minutes. 

Thus we resume the adventures of Naty and Martin, the red cricket.I told him everything that had happened. Everything.The story with the Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo, the documentary, my sadness. And Martín, who is a born hero, without hesitating for a minute, decided to help me. 

Simon, John and me, traveled to Switzerland in October 2016. We only stayed a couple of days, I brought him a copy of the file that Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo had on my case and Martín as soon as he read it, sent a message to a contact in Argentina who could provide us with information about the doctor who sold me, Celestino Bartucca and the address where I was supposedly born. Within an hour we received the answer: “There were many people who asked about that address and that doctor, especially cases that had to do with the theft of babies during the time of the military dictatorship”. He also sent us the link to a YouTube video of hidden camera footage of Dr. Bartucca, where it was made clear that the sale of babies was very common and hardly penalized. Who had uploaded it on youtube was Lorena Quiroga, a participant in that video. A brave woman who, also being sold by the doctor, was looking for her truth.We returned from Switzerland and my soul was aching. They had sold me like a pet. Reality is more beautiful when one imagines it than when one confronts it. But I also came back with a new inner strength thanks to the fact that Martín, who really had no reasons to do it, had used his contacts and dedicated his precious and scarce time to us for a couple of days. Faced with such a heavy reality, a hero stood up and changed the course of my story. A hero would take off his disguise and show himself for who he really was and lift me out of the mud. 

We met again in Paris, when we went with Simon to meet Ignacio Carlotto, the recovered grandson I talked about before and Claudia Carlotto, coordinator of Conadi, and again when we traveled to Argentina together in 2018 and found out about baby trafficking and tried to connect the military dictatorship with Dr. Bartucca. The last trip to Argentina was made by Simón and I alone. Of course I missed Martin, but I also understand that for whatever reason, he may have had to put his time and energy into other things. Martín and I swim in the same water and although in many ways we are very different, somewhere inside of us we are very similar. When he looks at me I know that he sees me and when I look at him I believe or hope that he knows that I see him too. Being able to do part of this journey with him was a luxury, being able to inhabit his aura was fascinating. There are people like that in the world, with so many layers and facets and depths that are endless. Martin is one of them. A hero who blends in very dark places, but who will always be who he has always been, that boy I knew, who played detective at recess, the one who defended those who couldn't defend themselves, the one who loved justice since a young age.His soul will always be his soul. And I will always know that it is there. It doesn't matter which path he takes in life. Martin will always be my unwitting hero. My red cricket. My Chapulín colorado.