Festival day
(Thursday):
A square. A place in
the city. A city that is like all
others, and like none other. Where in
this brief late summer evening, under a sky that is at once grey and open,
people come together to partake of tastes and rhythms that at least for a moment bridge difference,
evoke our common humanity. Orange tents
and a plethora of aromas. A moveable
stage. Light rain. People of different
ages and colors. A little girl with a
sparkly green mask painted on her honey-
colored skin sitting with her a multi-colored family. Or is it her family? An almost anomalous Caribbean beat. Mojitos and caipirinha. African women stirring sauces and placing spoonfuls of
aromatic rice on small paper plates.
Thai noodles. And bordering the
square, an array of shops, fit for different desires and budgets: the puffily-upholstered chairs of a
streetside café, the all- night stores
that are just beginning to open, a hipster joint... A city government trying to
make this space into 'one kind of place'?
Or just folks, seeking their own brief, transient place in the sun?
Friday/Sunday.
In the late afternoon, the square is terrain of boys and
men. The guys are everywhere, and the
women, few and far between: an occasional mom - or grandma, or auntie? - pushing
strollers or otherwise involved in child minding activities.
And how about sport? Today,
there was one young Asian woman who appeared on the basketball court in
sneakers and sweat pants, her pony tail bobbing up and down and she joined the guys in the game.
And there were many Tibetan men. The ones I spoke to cited
political(religious) reasons for
migration. Restaurant workers who have
not yet learned Dutch, they were gathered there under the last rays of sunlight
before heading on to work. From one very friendly guy whose English was
quite fluent (he had learned it in India, he added), I learned that he - and
perhaps his friends as well - would most definitely prefer to live in his own
country, if that someday, again, became possible. He spoke of Tibetan monks suffering
repression and wanting to be 'free'. And
joked with others about where (as single men, I can suppose) they can find
wives. Like 'good looking' Brazilian
ones. Might I be able to help them?, he
added with a laugh.
There was a young Afghani man, dressed in jeans, hard muscles under his
tight tee shirt, carefully arranged hair.
He came here from his village,
"alone", he tells me, "not with a family",
"because of the 'Taliban'" and now he is here on the square, just
hanging out before going in to his evening employment. At an Italian restaurant. Next to him, a friend, another Afghani, younger,
and a bit more meticulous in dress, avoided my gaze, my camera, my questions: perhaps a bit shy, and unable to answer in
English.
On a hot, late summer Sunday afternoon:
Some of the men I saw on Friday made brief appearances
again: the young Afghani man who was
dressed in jeans, a tight t shirt and tennis shoes the first time I saw him, now
crossed the plaza - by his side, the other young Afghani guy he was with on
Friday) dressed in traditional garb: a light blue tunic, matching
pants and sandals.
There were two young African
guys who let me take their pictures as well, asserting their pride in 'being
who they are'. I tried to talk to a young man from Kosovo who didn´t want to be
photographed. He said he'd been here for 16 years, and never had a job,
but for a brief few month stint at a hotel ...and after that has always lived
off of State assistance. He said he has
no family -- 'sister, grandparents dead', that was the way he put it. Where does he live? He said he has a roof over his head. Not a good one, he said.
As the evening began to cool off, more families began to
appear on the square: a number of Chinese families with young children who took
great pleasure in pigeon-catching, an African (Somali?) couple, others. The young basketball players kept up their
game, and in the gentlest of breezes,
shoppers continued to cross the square with bags of groceries. As night fell,
the square had in fact become a lively, rather inviting place to be.