sábado, 22 de março de 2025

EVERYWHERE(at the same time) - Aden/Berlin/shanghai/cuzco/Dakar/Yogya

Aden/Berlin/Shanghai/Cuzco/Dakar/Yogyakarta

 I’m in Aden, a city in southern Yemen, and at the same time, I'm in Berlin, I’m in Shanghai, I’m in Cuzco, I’m in Dakar, and I’m in Yogyakarta, now going down Jalan Malioboro. And so, back in Aden, a port city on the mouth of the Bab-el-Mandeb strait, where the red and the arabian sea meet, and so, here I go now, along what they call the khaleej Alfil, this is, the Elephant Bay. But, back to Berlin, back to the Metropol Hostel in Mehringdamm, just next to the Hallesches Tor cemetery. Thus, it’s morning and here I’m at the communal area of this hostel, and, breakfast is being served, this is, they put everything over some tables positioned in the middle of this room and we should pick what we want. And, as it goes, in the meanwhile, I see some guys wearing overalls, what may be factory workers with no fixed address, I think to myself, maybe chauffeurs/truck drivers, dipping big sausages inside the jam jars, some dipping it inside the peanut butter jars, others dipping it on the yogurt cups, and then mixing cold beer and hot coffee, eating and drinking that silently, while looking at the windows with a view over the  Hallesches Tor cemetery. And as I look at that, then, I’m in Shanghai, up at the window of a very tall building in the Putuo area, and so, now, as I lean against the parapet, I can feel the smell of fresh cement, frying oil and camphor with alcohol, something like that… and over there, on the horizon, I also see, some big cranes turning slowly, and then I recognise some voice, thus, I turn back inside and on the TV screen I see mr Robin Williams, accompanied by some Chinese woman, and they are actually promoting some pharmaceutical product, maybe a perfume, maybe a detergent, I’m not sure. And then, I’m at the Wanchaq train station, in Cuzco, or Cusco, Peru. A city that was the capital of the Inca Empire from the 13th until the 16th-century. And at the same time I’m at Malika beach, in Dakar, this is, by now we are actually painting the hull of some pirogues, strong red, strong blue, strong yellow, and also, some lettering, sentences saying things like: “Papa Alada Ndao”; “Yeye Fatow”; “Dieng Dieng Dieng”; “Noo Ko Bokk”, and while we do that, someone plays the Kora and the balafon, here on the side, inside some of these fishermen's cottages. And as I listen to 2 these sounds, then, I’m back in Yogyakarta, still going along Jalan Malioboro, a commercial street with many kind of shops promoting the javanese culture, this is, at the entrance of this shops, there are piles of Batik (earth colored fabrics), silver ceramics, stuffed toys, t-shirts with tribal motifs, and here and there man seated on the floor, working with a chisel in their hands, carving small objects like, masks with theatrical expressions, sheaths for holding daggers, small boxes, etc. And then, there are the food stalls selling Bakso, which is a kind of meatball, made from crab meat, and Gudeg, which is a traditional Javanese dish made from young unripe jackfruit and charcoal  coffee. And it is here also, close to the Kraton (the royal palace), that I will meet some street musicians playing various ethnic instruments like the angklung or the gamelan, being the first an instrument made of a varying number of bamboo tubes attached to a frame, and so, the instrument is played by shaking this tubes, causing a repeating note to sound. About the gamelan, is not one instrument, but a collection of several metallophones and small gongs. And in front of that, there are some thin girls, dancers, dressed with some kind of colourful gowns, doing slow movements and graceful poses, like, moving without showing their moves, they call it the Barong dance. But,  back to Yemen now, back to Aden, still going by the Elephant Bay, this is, from where I can see the container ships afloat down there, around some kind of inner inland, they call Mina' Eadn Lilhawiat, something like that. This is, I see containers from China, from Thailand, from India, from the United States, from the EU, and also from some african countries… and, talking about Africa, now, as I look at the containers afloat here at my front, I embrace in a conversation with some Somali guys, this is, Somali appears to be main ethnicity in this city after the arabs, and thus, as we talk, I get to know that most of the somalis emigrated here during The Somali Civil War in the beginning of the nineties, but, “relations between the modern-day territories of Somalia and Yemen stretch back to antiquity due to the Himyarite and Sabaean merchants” this guy with very dark and oily sort of skin says. And as he says that, I’m coming back to Europe, Berlin again, now at the Friedhof der Gemeinde Jerusalem's cemetery, here I am seated on the grave of Grab Georg Wolff, a certain merchant, and by my side, on the same grave, is the statue of a giant angel, his face fallen, like pretending to be sleeping, arms crossed against the chest, and his long beard squeezed between his arms and chest, and so, initially I stare at his eyes making sure he is really sleeping and then, as I get closer and closer I end up leaning my head between the upper part of his leg and the tip of his wing, and so, in this position, I close my eyes, and that’s 3 when I start to list the voice of an effeminate man saying “you think… you think… you may think that everything is nothing more than slimmer and kimeras… and yes yes… we all think this and that… we all creating endless plans to deceive the world and safeguard our skin, but, it turns out that in the end we all may need a guide, a cicerone, doesn't matter the sex, dosen’t matter the size of…” and so, as I hear this comments I open my eyes, but, can’t properly see the criature saying such things, because, he/she/it is not on my front, but seated on the other side of the angel, concealed by its opposite leg and oposire wing, and so, I close my eyes again, trying to relax, and he continues, “we may need someone that enjoys dancing when it comes to dirty scenes… the crisis exists because man cannot live only from dreams, we must have some truth ... and yes, I advise you, you too, you should not stay too long at middle ground… it can lead you to misunderstandings about yourself at short, middle and time-long term, and we may end up being bait to moss-trophers, and they may kidnap your sould and take it to court in order to explore all your lost feelings and repressed thoughts.. I mean, sometimes you may want to say to yourself I feel so full of this shit, but you know, you may even know better than me… that, people's problems are almost always the same anywhere we go… actually, you know, and you should remember… people create problems in order to get some fun solving them…. and so, yes, you may have to put your feet by the hands when selling the fish... and yes, me too, we have all crawled over muddy soils and right now we all must be ready for ejaculating anacronic fluids in various and distinct directions... fluids that can corrupt the holy will so much as the venerated bones of the craft... but, it will be nothing... because new reasons are being created everyday… and so, you can relax now” and then, when I hear some cracking on the floor, I open my eyes all in a sudden and the man from the voice is no more there, I even move slightly, but can’t see anyone, he’s gone, and I’m tempted to go after him, but, I’m not going, here I stay, looking at the Cronus expression, and his eyes, looking semi-open now. And then, I’m in  Shanghai again, riding the metro now, on the rush time, so here I go, compressed against the masses. I observe people and their mutism or small eccentricities, most of them touching the phones, silently. This is, I watch their faces, their dull expressions and then, I take a look at the screen of some phones around me. I mean, I can’t really understand chinese lettering, but, I notice, some of them are watching movies or cartoons, and as it goes, I recognise a scene from Fifty Shades of Gray, this is, I recognize the actors Christian Grey and Anastasia Steel arguing, but in this scene, Anastasia looks to have slanted eyes, a chinese looking Anastasia, let’s say, but, then, the girl watching it, feeling my peeping, she just get the screen out of my reach. And so, then, I just turn my look to another screen, to another person, This is, I’m watching one other girl playing tetris now, but the pieces, instead of blocks, are actually worms, and then, this guy on my side, wearing a smoking, is actually opening and closing the hand maniacally, and on the side, one other guy is scratching his friend's chin while his friend is actually playing Anipop, that is a 4 match-3 game in which you match animals of the same color to make them disappear. And then, after taking a look at some of these personages, I’m actually looking through the windows of the carriage, and as I look I see, shifting advertising images of various burgers and king kong spitting bubbles, and then, as my greasy hand touches another greasy hands on the rod, someone says “Duìbùqǐ”, that may be some kind of sorry expression. And, as it goe, doors are opening again, and, more dull android coming in, more black ships with counterfeit clothes getting out. And so, at this point, I no longer care if this one is a bizness-man on loan or that one is a crook in holidays, if this one cleans up other people's shit or if cleans machinery shit or if cleans only his or her own shit. I no longer care if this one plays the dizy, or the suona, or the xun or the sheng or the hulusi or the bawu or the xiao or the ruan, or the hulusi, or the cucurbit or gourd flute. I close my eyes and take a deep breath trying to relieve my nausea, and, as I do that,I see teeth eating brains and flaccid dicks balancing like chewing gum and pearls hanging from the pubes around mature vaginas. And then I’m is Cuzco again, back to the Wanchaq train station, where you can take the train to the Machu Picchu mountains, but I do not board any train, I just stay here, watching people, watching the locals, watching the tourists, and so, in the meanwhile, I meet Johnny, an American who tells me about Supay, a demon associated with miners' rituals. “Supay acquired a syncretic symbolism, becoming a main character of the diabladas of Bolivia, Carnaval de Oruro and other Andean stories, and the Quechua, they continue the tradition of the Supay dance at the colonial Mamacha Candicha festivity which can be translates as " the virgin of the candle flame" also known as "Virgen de la Candelaria" in Spanish, a festival with dancing lasting up to two weeks. And as he says that, I’m back in Dakar,  now going through the city center of Dakar, I go down Boulevard Dial Diop, I pass the Place de l'Obélisque, I go down Boulevard du General de Gaulle that takes me to the Medina, where I meet someone that wanna buy my hair, then I pass the Grand Mosque of Dakar and the Cathedral of Our Lady of Victories, and I go down Av. Pasteur, I pass the Ancien palais de Justice and then I’m in Yogyakarta, again, this is, as I walked around through the city gardens, people would lead me to people, and, at some point they arranged me to be hosted at some kind of small palace, actually some kind of puppets theatre, here called Wayang, and so, as I go inside I’m already meeting Sudarto, the puppeteer, and Bayu, the gardener. And then, straight away we would pass to the inner garden, where I would meet some students of this kind of shadow theatre, here they are operating their puppets, talking in silly modes as they move through the garden, and so, I couldn't understand nothing from what they where saying, but it was funny to see and in the meanwhile the puppeteer would explain, “most of the stories they are representing are adaptations from the Indian epics Ramayana and the Mahabharata, have you heard about them?”; “Well, I have heard about Rama, yes, but not Ramayana” I say, and so, while we would walk through this gardens with small fountains and some bamboo tubes hanging here and there at the branches of some trees, making this rattling sound, he would explain, “The Ramayana is mainly about the story of King Rama who must save his kidnapped wife, Sita, and, as he goes in that mission… along the way, it teaches life lessons, I will give you some books in english, so, you can read it in your room, later, but, for now… I will tell you a bit more, about Rama, so, Rama was the eldest son of the great king Dasharatha… and, it is said that, the gods had declared that 5 he was born for the specific purpose of defeating the demon-king Ravana. And, he is considered to be the seventh incarnation of the great god, Vishnu… but, going directly into the matter, as it is said, Rama, won the hand of his wife Sita in an archery contest, in which he was the only contender able to bend a bow that had once belonged to Shiva… and, now about Sita, it is said that Sita had been born of a furrow in the earth… and so, Rama and Sita were extremely happy together, but, at some point, Rama's stepmother, Kaikeyi, wanted to promote her son Bharata as heir to the throne of her husband, Dasharatha, so… Kaikeyi called in several favors her husband had promised her, and forced Dasharatha, who could not go back on his promises to his wife, to exile Rama for fourteen years… but, as this happened, Rama's brother Lakshman and his wife insisted on accompanying him, and afterall they left together… in the meanwhile, Dasharatha died of grief, and Bharata attempted to persuade his brother to return, but Rama, also bound not to go back on his word, refused. So, Bharata pledged to rule in Rama's name until his return…. and so, it happened that, while Rama, Sita, and Lakshman wandered in the forest, Rama was seen by an evil spirit, who fell in love with him but… as Rama rejected her and she attacked with her allies, only to meet defeat at the hands of Lakshman and Rama… but then, she appealed to her brother Ravana, the strongest and most dangerous demon on earth at that time, for help. Ravana decided to kidnap Sita, the wife of Rama. One of Ravana's demon followers assumed the form of a splendid deer, who aroused the interest of Sita. She asked Rama to retrieve the deer. Lakshman drew a line or circle around Sita to protect her magically, and went to aid his brother, but, while he and his brother were thus engaged, Ravana came to Sita in the guise of a holy man, tricking her in this way to cross the protective line, and so, he kidnapped her and took her to his palace on the island of Lanka. Thus, upon returning and finding Sita gone, Rama despaired, and then, accompanied by his brother, he went in search of her.. And, on the way the two killed a demon whose liberated spirit told them to seek the help of Sugriva, the monkey-king. The brothers sought out the king, and helped him to regain control of his kingdom, which had been usurped by his half-brother. In gratitude, Sugriva dedicated his armies and his finest general—Hanuman, the son of the wind—to the quest to retrieve Sita. Hanuman discovered Sita's location and visited her there, reassuring her that Rama would save her. He suggested that a huge bridge to the island would be constructed to allow the siege of Lanka. And so, after great battles and acts of heroism, the siege was completed and Ravana defeated. So, Sita was rescued. And as it goes, I’m in Aden again, now going through the dusty streets of the city center, watching old Toyota and Suzuki minivans, communal-taxis, here called mer-mer, parking at some intersection near a neighborhood they call “crater” where there are people selling huge vegetables, old clothes, cutlery and other kinds of trinkets, and the retailers sitting on broken office chairs in the back of their stalls with turbans falling from the head to the shoulders, looking out, at the brown mountains around the city, mountains that seem to be crumbling at this very moment. And as I stare at that mountains, I’m in once more in Berlin, now walking along the Landwehr Canal, I cross the Böcklerpark park, the Kottbusser Brücke, I pass in front of Lidl and then I arrive at the Sportanlage Maybachufer, where the canal forks, and so I head east towards the Treptower Park, and as I take my choice, another guy with mass glasses comes up behind me, I let him come on my side, we communicate through signs, together we cross the highway that goes around the city and then we are already arriving at the Wernsdorf park, a sanctuary for migratory birds, and silently, we go into the swamps, we go across a wooded area with people living in boats looking more like spaceships and then we return to another park, more urban this one, with giant statues of men and women pointing to the sky and then nothing, a tourist comes from nowhere and starts shooting in all directions, shooting at the bushes, shooting at the stones, shooting at the trees, shooting the floor, and soon, the son of a bitch also shoots me, me that was here, busy, trying to roll up something that was unrolled... but as soon as I stand up, the creature disappears... and so I sit down again, this time right next to the statue, that one with one arm extended and a sort of gun pointing to the sky. Then, when I have everything prepared, the boy with the mass sunglasses appears again, he 6 looks a bit frazzled now... then, out of nothing, he starts saying things about people in this country, he says that “people of this country are rubbish... they pretend to be nice, they pretend to be idealists, to defend the rights of the wronged, but in the end… they only criticize, and they always criticize from behind, that is, they are nothing more than a bunch of hypocrites, a facade…" and after speaking this words, the guy leaves running between the bushes, and then the photographer appears again, running after the boy, taking photos to his back, and while the two run away, birds rise in the the surrounding trees, and here I’m in Shanghai again,  this is, I just wake up inside this metro carriage hearing some kind of groan or suppressed scream, but I can't straight away identify from where that thing is coming, this because the carriage is really crowded, I mean, people are squelched against the doors… and then this person thing appears, dragging on, several coats on top of each other he is wearing, and people tugging up in order to let him pass. So, let’s say, It’s a man with a very thin face, some scars and large dark circles under his eyes... And then, after huffing I don't know what in chinese language, he says something in french, like "Mesdames et messieurs, j'ai une question, pas un rêve" and then he repeats it in english, "Ladies and gentlemen I have a question not a dream", he says in a mixed tone of despair and charlatanism, and people are not looking, just try to move away. "Ladies and gentlemen, Nǚshìmen, xiānshēngmen, ma question is, qu'est ce la décadence? Tuífèi-Tuífèi-Tuífèi!! Quoi ce la décadence monsignors et madames?” he says in perfect French, looking people in the eyes. And then, some of them are getting visibly uncomfortable, we can understand that coz, they are covering their faces with their phones… even so, I'm sure that almost no-one understands French here, and then, he approaches a lady with a pik-nik hat, saying "Et toi, mademoiselle, qu'est ce que tu pense qui est la décadence? But don't worry, miss, je ne vais faire mal à quelqu'une, je suis soulante une pauvre homme avec la volonté de comprendre…”; "La decadence ce la merde'' someone shouts in a quaint French, from the back of the carriage as the metro slows down and stops at5 a new station. Half the people leave there, and almost nobody enters, so now, I get face to face with this decadence character, and I have no chance, I have to intervene “There isn't any decadence my fool, the creation and the destruction is the same thing”, and so suddenly the man stops, staring straight at me as if his eyes have taken on new life, “ça ce possible”, says the charlatan, “oui ça ce possible” I repeat, and then “oui ça ce possible parce que dans la merde les meilleurs champignons poussent - yes that is possible because is in da shit the best mushrooms grow” he says, and at this the time the metro stops again, the doors open, and he push me outside, and there we go, bumping into people, pushing each other, and then going up the escalator, talking silly french. And as we get to the surface, I’m in Cuzco again, still at the Wanchaq train station, now eating tamales. And then, I’m in Dakar again, now getting to Cap Manuel, the westernmost point of the African continent, as as I look at the sea, I see the Java island far away, floating, and there I go, already landing at the Special Region of Yogyakarta, coming back inside the that sort of palace dedicated to the teaching of Wayang, this is, puppets theatre, or shadow theatre, and so, it’s night, and here I’m at the inner garden, this is, here we are, coz, I'm here with Bayu, the gardener, and so, in front of a big sheet spread on the wall, we are playing now, I mean, I'm the puppet he is operating by nowt, and so, I'm being held in the air, with cords around my arms and legs and neck, cords going up and meeting at the handlebar, and Bayu, he is the one manipulating it, and so, I’m actually saying some words in javanese I just learned, and as I say this things, he is manipulating my members accordingly to the things I’m saying, for example, I say “pahargyan”, which means celebration, and he pulls the strings of all my limbs with frenzy, also making my head spin, and then I say “pati” wich means death, and he stretches me out on the ground and let me rest for a while, while still saying things like in a language from the world of the dead that I should understand.        

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