Journey to the Holy Land / 4
Jerusalem is a city where the paradox is at home.
I took two cups of coffee. The first at Damascus Gate, in a closet without taxes, exposed to cold and wind, fairly dirty, sitting at a table stained plastic and lopsided. Three guys approached me trying to guess my nationality, then tumbler with pride on their knowledge of Italian. Only after five minutes I managed to order my coffee, I was served five minutes later, accompanied by myeloma pastries that I had ordered. Coffee, Turkish, smelled of cardamom. I sipped surrounded by three boys, extremely interested in everything that concerned me. We greeted with much backslapping and promise of new friendships. The second
I sipped coffee in an elegant local shopping arcade built under the Jaffa Gate. All very clean, maids clean every action was monitored by digital counters. A good espresso but ordinarily European chocolate with the ordinance and a dry cookie with hazelnuts frankly stringy. I sat at a table on the terrace warmed by gas flames. There was an unusual silence, while a subtle jazzy music wafted in the air like a tranquilizer. I brought the coffee tray on the order, after a minute servitomi a round beginning to write these notes. Coming out I waved the waiter, he replied with a nod of the lips.
How do they coexist in the same city two peoples so different from the rituals? Only the presence of foreigners, dell'avventore in this case, it can stay together. You need the odd man out.
The Kiss of Jerusalem: wind, gold and honey.
How much money coming here in Israel! The Jewish solidarity is extraordinary. He says here that a rabbi is more important than the quality of projects that their monetary quantification: the money, if the project is good, come anyway. What do you say "power of the idea", Israel is still an idea extraordinary.
desert winds, slamming against the eyelids and teeth. Which smooths the skin like stone. In Jerusalem there are faces that look like granite and stones that seem to velvet.
Jews almost always recognize them. Sometimes immediately, sometimes after a while. Jewish culture reaches the depths of man, dating from the skin and psyche, dictating behavior and attitudes. Being Jewish is neither a conviction nor a vocation: it is simply an ontology that combines a phenomenology. Here in Jerusalem
nothing is obvious, but at the same time everything lives of ritual repeated endlessly and never changed over the centuries. Repeat is the only way to become citizens. When exemption from rituals, one of two things: either it is expelled naturally by the multi-faceted community of Jerusalem, or it becomes a new tradition. (This latter case is rather rare). The anguish of kitsch
get anywhere, and easily replaces the traditional standards of beauty. Because the screams kitsch, while tradition whispers, the first requires the second evokes; kitsch plays on the amount and speed, the tradition of quality and safety. Even in Jerusalem on kitsch can be right for thousands of years (for the moment).
I sipped coffee in an elegant local shopping arcade built under the Jaffa Gate. All very clean, maids clean every action was monitored by digital counters. A good espresso but ordinarily European chocolate with the ordinance and a dry cookie with hazelnuts frankly stringy. I sat at a table on the terrace warmed by gas flames. There was an unusual silence, while a subtle jazzy music wafted in the air like a tranquilizer. I brought the coffee tray on the order, after a minute servitomi a round beginning to write these notes. Coming out I waved the waiter, he replied with a nod of the lips.
How do they coexist in the same city two peoples so different from the rituals? Only the presence of foreigners, dell'avventore in this case, it can stay together. You need the odd man out.
The Kiss of Jerusalem: wind, gold and honey.
How much money coming here in Israel! The Jewish solidarity is extraordinary. He says here that a rabbi is more important than the quality of projects that their monetary quantification: the money, if the project is good, come anyway. What do you say "power of the idea", Israel is still an idea extraordinary.
desert winds, slamming against the eyelids and teeth. Which smooths the skin like stone. In Jerusalem there are faces that look like granite and stones that seem to velvet.
Jews almost always recognize them. Sometimes immediately, sometimes after a while. Jewish culture reaches the depths of man, dating from the skin and psyche, dictating behavior and attitudes. Being Jewish is neither a conviction nor a vocation: it is simply an ontology that combines a phenomenology. Here in Jerusalem
nothing is obvious, but at the same time everything lives of ritual repeated endlessly and never changed over the centuries. Repeat is the only way to become citizens. When exemption from rituals, one of two things: either it is expelled naturally by the multi-faceted community of Jerusalem, or it becomes a new tradition. (This latter case is rather rare). The anguish of kitsch
get anywhere, and easily replaces the traditional standards of beauty. Because the screams kitsch, while tradition whispers, the first requires the second evokes; kitsch plays on the amount and speed, the tradition of quality and safety. Even in Jerusalem on kitsch can be right for thousands of years (for the moment).
Within the Damascus Gate, and I see a face unusual. A Chinese. Once you meet one of China was an exception in our districts. But not anymore. The Chinese are everywhere, and even more made in China. But foreigners still seem absolutely everywhere. While Europeans somehow know inculturate abroad, camouflaged in the folds of the cities, identify with the places visited. But not for long: the Chinese will find their homeland in the world ..
0 comments:
Post a Comment