The Crazy Life (La vida loca)

of God's power.

Christ saved me. He's alive.

He has given me freedom!

With Christ we can.

He is victory.

Hallelujah!

Clap your hands!

Clap your hands.

For He who has eternal life. Hallelujah!

I feel it's hard to lose a friend.

His soul walks towards eternity.

He's gone and will never come back.

His memory will stay, let him rest in peace.

May God be with him, my soul mate.

I bid you farewell, I'll never forget our lovely friendship.

Forward, homeboys!

Balmore!

Balmore! Why?

He has left me!

He left me, mami! I love him!

In the sad city of San Salvador, in Central America,

two terribly cruel gangs,

the Mara Salvatrucha and the Mara 18.

Nihilist rebellion, death and blood are their territory.

This is the wound left by twelve years of civil war.

The exile in the United States swallowed up a generation

sacrificed on the altar of globalization.

The savagery of the first feeds the ferocity of the second.

Repression answers to aggression

but doesn't take on any socio-economic challenge.

A dialogue of the deaf!

Our goal, this month,

is to curb homicides,

by capturing gang members.

So, we must locate them, arrest them,

and bring them in.

We just brought one in from La Campanera,

with a big pack of drugs.

It's the only way of reducing crime.

Sweep up the zone!

It's hot. I was gonna buy a soda.

We'll leave you alone,

but if you do illegal things, you know...

Crazy bitch!

Fuck, some respect!

Some say,

we're doing nothing productive here.

We'll prove them wrong.

They'll realize we can run a bakery,

and it will end their bad impression of us.

We're the voice of the voiceless.

Now we have a place, where we can show society,

the police and the people,

we can bake bread and be productive.

We're not going to eradicate violence,

it isn't possible.

But we're gonna try to reduce it,

through programs like this one.

Fuck. Cops keep on turning up,

just to fuck with us.

They know we're working,

and they come to question us:

who, how, why and since when...

We're fed up!

Those who work here will only have one word.

The one they gave the gang.

So don't mess it up!

I fully engaged myself and here I am.

That's it.

For your other stuff, do it elsewhere.

And my clothes?

She forgot.

You don't care, if I'm going to jail all dirty.

You bitch!

And no food either.

I'm gonna take care of him.

If we both die, I'm gonna give him to you.

Come on, shut up!

- How old are you, Janet? - 25.

Are you insured?

Why are you here?

Because I'm gonna have surgery...

- to remove my... - To fix your eye.

It's slowly healing up.

Lie down.

Sometimes it hurts here. I wonder why?

It's normal, it's healing.

And those scars?

Which ones?

Gunshots...

from the Mara Salvatrucha (MS).

- It hit an artery? - It fucked my collarbone.

Just the collarbone?

Now, the situation is really bad.

- Do you know the trade? - No, but I wanna learn.

El Moreno wants to learn.

La Little One wants to learn too.

Do you receive welfare to feed your children?

Does the father of your children help?

No, nothing.

You say that you have four kids...

How do you pay your bills?

I help someone to sell.

- Street vending? - Yes.

The hospital facilities...

surgery, tests, X-rays.

Everything's at your disposal.

We're here to work.

That's the way it should be.

The bakery isn't an alibi.

It will be for those who work.

As for the others, nothing.

The cops won't bother us, we're not hanging out.

They won't mess with us, get it?

Besides, we'll be working near our homes.

We'd get gunned down some place else.

Fuck, man.

We were leaving this place, me and three buddies.

We see this fucking ride come our way.

We had no guns.

Fuck!

I see those bitches of the MS drive by.

'Cause last time we shot back at them,

so they didn't have the balls to get out.

They bounced, and once they were far off,

they wanted to get out.

We weren't gonna wait for them, we had no guns.

They had shotguns,

two fucking shotguns.

They didn't shoot, did they, bro?

They shit their pants.

We were just pretending.

If we had guns

we'd have made a bloodshed.

When those bitches saw us do this,

as we looked at them...

We didn't take our eyes off them.

One of the bitches took a gun out like this...

But the others stopped him.

They thought we were armed.

Those fuckers left us alive.

Now we know who they are.

We've just gotta find them.

With a gun, we'd have butchered them.

Was there liquid coming out of it?

Look over there.

- Liquid? - Water, lots of water...

What's inside there?

Your eye is still in there.

But it's very small.

Do you know if they put a prosthesis?

Your doctor didn't tell you anything?

No.

They'd stitched it.

And afterwards they cut my stitches.

About 20 years ago?

- No. - Was it longer than that?

- A year and four months. - So it was after the war?

Yes.

We'll do it on Friday.

It's going to be quick. Happy?

Yeah!

- Listen. - Go on.

- Shut up! - Explain when you went out...

Wait, gimme some respect.

Shut up! I'm gonna explain the whole thing.

Check this out, man.

We were four homeboys, ok?

Suddenly, we see a red ride.

One of those bitches gets out with a gun,

and busts a cap at us.

Running, I get my gun out and start shooting back.

That's when I was shot in the back,

then they ran away.

It's a dream come true.

We have our bakery.

We tried to get help from the government,

but they don't care...

If you tell them you've done this or that,

they barge in, publicizing themselves with their cameras,

making people believe it's thanks to them.

And thanks to the president's efforts and blablabla.

It reminds me of the Guaraguau's song.

"When tasty bread comes out of the oven

"People eat it with bitterness..."

While we have the opportunity

to show them what we can do,

let's do it.

Let's make badges for those who work.

So if the cops turn up, they'll see we work here.

Look, we baked it!

Four bitches in a cab.

And the four had guns.

Even the driver got out!

Yeah, even the driver!

He's the one who shot me.

Him and another bitch.

The others caught El Sombra. They were shooting like crazies.

But, thank God, they didn't know how to fucking aim.

I was knocked down, at their mercy.