Back home

Just got back from vacation. Summer is over. But my everyday life is good. I'll just take it as it comes, perhaps in slow motion mode for a while :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Qm5rd1kciM

Do You Really Want to Know?

Why do people ask questions that they clearly do not want to know the answer to? For example, why ask me how I am feeling when you know that if I say bloated, gassy and/or horny you will be appalled. The truth is you want me to say, “I’m fine and you?” because you really want to believe that that is the case and you can go about your day without any reason to fear that I will go crazy, flip out and take you with me. Unfortunately, real crazy people never tell you that they are crazy.


I take a lot of flack from people because where I am from you do not ask strangers “what’s up” or “how you doing”. We don’t ask because we don’t really want to know and do not want to open the door for you to tell us. Have you ever seen the movie “The Invention of Lying”? The premise is that everyone in the movie tells the truth all the time because lying has not been invented yet. One of the best exchanges in the movie goes like this.
Ricky Gervais – (walks on the elevator) Hey/Good morning. How are you?
Jonah Hill – Alright I guess, I mean I tried to kill myself again last night.
Ricky Gervais – (clearly uncomfortable)


That is why I don’t ask everyone. I don’t care how you are doing. I don’t want to know that you had a rough night last night. We are not friends. In fact I probably would not talk to you outside the office if we had not been in the same elevator or we had not made eye contact which made pretending like I don’t see you impossible. The point is that we really don’t want to know what is going on in the lives of our coworkers, fellow shoppers, bus buddies or friend of friends and to be even more honest we don’t want to tell people what is going on with us. So we lie instead of saying what we are really thinking. We don’t say the following even though we are thinking it:


I don’t know you like that!
If I tell you I might as well say it over the intercom because you are just going to tell everyone anyway.
Hey there, nosy!
I can’t believe you just asked me that!
Pervert!
Is your life that boring?
Mind your business. I mean really, can I get some space?
I don't like you.
Actually, I hate this job.


There are any number of responses that we really want to give when people ask questions above their personal security clearance.


The other reason people ask about you is so that they will have a reason to talk about themselves or give you unsolicited advice. The thing is that I don’t want your opinion. That is why I did not ask you. I don’t want to know about your kidney stone, feminine cycle or sinus drainage. That is why I did not share. I do not want to let you in my life because then I won’t be able to get you out of my business.
However, there are times when people close to me go too far. I have an ongoing debate with someone about asking family/friends questions that you know only end up making you upset. I say don’t ask and she says she just wants to understand. The truth is she doesn’t want to know the truth because she wants someone else’s internal logic to make sense in terms of what she would do. That will never happen. Why questions just lead to more why questions and then someone is bound to get upset.


What typically happens is that she asks why the person did it, they lie because even they know the truth sounds stupid, she figures out they lied and get upset. She will then ask in a round about way hinting that she knows the truth. That person makes a last ditch effort to save the lie and then she explodes. That is totally pointless because she knows before she asks the first time that this was going to be how it ended and she was going to do the favor regardless. So why get herself all worked up? I don’t know and I don’t ask because I don’t really want to know.

(Amanda Jannan's blog, Friday, August 5, 2011)

The meaning of life

Lesson

1984

Fragment din "1984" de George Orwell:

The Ministry of Truth - Minitrue in Newspeak (note: Newspeak was the official language of Oceania) - was startingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, three hundred meters into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant leathering, the three slogans of the Party:

WAR IS PEACE

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was devided: the Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts; the Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war; the Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order; and the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty.
The Ministry of love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all.

When crazy people say amazing things

(de unde si ipoteza ca nebunia poate veni din prea multa inteligenta - folosita gresit, insuficient exploatata or something)
Din cronica jurnalistei si umoristei quebecoase Julie Laferrière (ziarul Métro de Montréal), care descrie saptaminal cite un original utilizator al transportului in comun:
À maintenant deux pouces de mon visage, l'homme d'environ 40 ans aux cheveux noirs en bataille parle haut et fort afin d'enterrer sa musique imaginaire. Imaginaire, parce qu'il est muni d'écouteurs... qui ne sont reliés à rien. Mais, de toute évidence, il entend des choses en stéréo.
"Au Brésil, ils n'ont pas de montre parce que ça structure le temps. Y'en ont pas besoin. Y sont déjà dans le futur. Pis y'ont la plage. Qui veut savoir l'heure quand y'a la mer?!"

On kissing

Presque tous les humains embrassent et pourtant la science n'a toujours pas réussi à déterminer pourquoi ils le font. Est-ce instinctif ou culturel? Une chercheuse américaine a compilé des études historiques, sociologiques, neurologiques - et même zoologiques - pour percer le mystère du baiser.
Dans son livre "La science du baiser: ce que nos lèvres nous révèlent", Sheril Kirshenbaum, de l'université du Texas à Austin, tente de remonter à l'origine de cette pratique, présente dans 90% des cultures à travers le monde.
D'après cette chercheuse, les scientifiques soupçonnent que le baiser serait un dérivé du reniflement. Certains anthropologues avancent que la première salutation de ce type aurait pu être un échange nez-à-nez où chacun humait l'odeur de l'autre pour le reconnaître ou vérifier son état de santé.
La première mention d'un baiser sur les lèvres se trouve dans la littérature indienne d'environ 1.500 av. J.-C. Un texte védique, en sanskrit, décrit une pratique qui consiste à humer avec la bouche. Un autre raconte comment le "jeune seigneur de la maison lèche souvent la jeune femme". Un autre encore parle d'amants qui "posent leur bouche l'une contre l'autre". Enfin, une ancienne loi hindoue réprimande l'homme qui "boit l'eau des lèvres d'une esclave".
Dans ses "Histoires", rédigées au Ve siècle av. J.-C., le Grec Hérodote évoque les baisers qu'échangent les Perses: lèvres à lèvres pour les personnes de même statut social, celles d'un rang inférieur devant embrasser le sol ou les pieds de leurs supérieurs.
Un mythe babylonien, gravé dans la pierre au VIIe siècle av. J.-C. et inspiré de légendes orales bien plus anciennes, fait référence à un baiser de salutation et à un baiser de supplication (par terre ou sur les pieds), rapporte Sheril Kirshenbaum.
La Bible elle-même regorge de baisers, tout comme la littérature et les arts plastiques occidentaux. Parfois décrié comme sale, le bouche-à-bouche européen a tout de même traversé les âges, se propageant même là où les explorateurs du Vieux Monde se sont aventurés. Le baiser de salutation a toutefois été délaissé ponctuellement, par exemple dans le Londres des années 1660 décimé par la Grande Peste, où il a été remplacé -c'est plus prudent- par la poignée de mains.
D'après Sheril Kirshenbaum, aujourd'hui, plus de six milliards d'êtres humains posent régulièrement leurs lèvres sur celles de leurs semblables, pour des raisons sociales ou sentimentales.
La chercheuse confie avoir été surprise par la différence qu'elle a observée entre les sexes. "Je n'aime pas du tout les stéréotypes de genre, mais j'ai vu tellement d'études sur cette division", note-t-elle. "Les hommes ont tendance à décrire le baiser comme un moyen de parvenir à une fin, espérant obtenir davantage, tandis que les femmes accordent beaucoup plus d'importance au baiser lui-même".
Ils tombent d'accord en revanche sur les conséquences que peuvent avoir de piètres performances en la matière. Ainsi, d'après une enquête citée par l'auteure, 59% des hommes et 66% des femmes disent avoir mis fin à une relation parce que leur partenaire embrassait mal.

Par Leanne Italie--, The Associated Press | La Presse Canadienne – sam. 5 mars 2011 10:39 HNE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDgncPD0bew

PS: Mai zicea o critica a filmului "Frech Kiss" ca un sarut French (=cu limba) e un act mai intim decit a te afla cu cineva in pat.

(hahahah - how ironical - postare din vremea celui mai crunt herpes din viata mea!)

Silence - de Fred Pellerin

J'm'en vas t'amener où c'est silence
Pour entendre juste la murmurance de ta voix
Une fois

J'm'en vas t'amener où il fait noir
Juste pour voir la petite brillance dedans tes yeux
Un feu

Y'a plein d'affaires qu'on dira pas
Y'en a toujours qu'on dit jamais
Puis qu'on dit "j'aimais".

J'm'en vas t'amener dans un désert
Grand comme la mer
Te voir courir à perdre l'horizon

Y'a plein d'affaires qu'on dira pas
Y'en a toujours qu'on dit jamais
Puis qu'on dit "j'aimais".

J'm'en vas t'amener devant la mort
Quand la vie part
Voir si ton coeur battra l'amour
Encore

Y'a plein d'affaires qu'on dira pas
Y'en a toujours qu'on dit jamais
Puis qu'on dit "j'aimais".

J'm'en vas t'amener où c'est silence.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83js0XXCkUo

Difficult Life Choices

HAHAHA!

Nirvana

“I think Kafka knew it,” she said through pierced lips. Her eyes were dismal and tired, the words falling off her tongue into some abyss of futile thought.

“Knew what?” I asked, pulling the cigarette from my mouth and savoring the toxins filling my throat and lungs.

“He knew that at the center of all things, there’s something horrible and unknown,” she said, her eyes drifting up enough to briefly meet mine and then darting quickly back down to the hot concrete.

“You’re too ambiguous. I can’t answer you because I don’t know what you’re trying to say. And besides, if it’s unknown, then why is it so horrible?”

“Because,” she said, “it’s horrible precisely because it’s unknown. That’s why we’re afraid of the dark. It’s not the darkness itself that frightens us, but we’re scared shitless of what’s hiding behind the darkness. Fear was at the root of Kafka’s angst. So many thinkers and artists can’t cope with that same thing. Nietzsche was desperately ill, Pollock was a raving alcoholic, Cobain went crazy. That’s hardly the tip of the iceberg. These minds saw enough of the world to know the chaos surrounding it. They saw the horror and drowned in it.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think Kafka knew somewhere that there is something infinite and beautiful in and beyond life. But we are trapped by the human condition. We fail to see what is so obvious. We live for tomorrow but all we ever need is today. I think he knew that but could never embody it. I think his intellect prevented him from feeling peace, but he knew that at the center of things was not something horrible and unknown. No, he knew that at the center is something heaving, eternal and inexplicably divine. All Kafka really needed was to drop some acid on a sunny day.”

“I think you’re full of shit,” she said.

“Well,” I shot back, maybe too soon, “I don’t think you can just read Metamorphosis and pretend to know what the fuck you’re talking about!” I crushed the cigarette against the sole of my shoe and exhaled. This was the same talk we’d had a thousand times. It was just taking a new form this time. She was talking about life as some meaningless entity, something that we try desperately to see but can’t, like we’re staring into the sun. And I was the blind optimist, trying to see the beauty in those bright blue spots burned into the back of my mind.

“You don’t have to be so abrasive,” she said, obviously hurt and beginning to tremble.

“I’m sorry, babe,” I said. I had forgotten again how easy it was to shake her. I reached into my pocket for another cigarette. And to think I was contesting her nihilism. After finding out she was suicidal, her parents had been quick to sedate her with an endless supply of prescriptions. It was more lucrative for the medical world to treat her than to cure her, like swallowing saltwater to quench a thirst. They knew that every second she spent taking those damn pills was another moment of relative quiet. And the therapists could never help her. They were all too human.

“I just don’t know anymore,” she said, starting to cry. Her eyes were wet, beautiful against her skin. She had such a pure heart. It always hurt to see her like this.

“You never knew,” I joked. “And everyone is lost. You remember the American dream? Well here we are, spending our time watching television, rushing to get to jobs we hate, shopping for shit we don’t need, overeating, throwing up … and getting drunk to numb it all. The pain is universal. We’re all just treading water.”

She stayed still, her sobs beginning to quiet down. By the look of it, the weight of the world seemed to rest squarely on her alone. I would shoulder it as best as I could, but at night the weight would always come back to her. She would talk in her sleep, sharing her anxious abstractions, soft curses and cold sweats.

“Where did everyone go?” she said quietly, watching four lanes of traffic drift past us. “These people don’t look like they have lived a day in their lives.”

“They have,” I said, trying to calm her. “I’m sure they live at least two days a week.”

We both laughed.

“Things are going to get better, babe,” I said moving toward her, “trust in me, trust in beauty, trust in love.”

She kissed me and sighed. Then she started to giggle, enjoying the slight rush that sometimes comes after a cathartic cry.

—Adam Itkoff, Adbusters

Struggle for Pleasure

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvZQOYzycVA

Scoala la Polu' Nord

Nunavut, Nunavik teacher shortage hits school boards hard this fall

Does no one want to be a teacher in the Arctic anymore?

JANE GEORGE
Nunatsiaq News

MONTREAL — As teachers discover that they don't need to leave the South for good job, a serious staffing crisis is battering Nunavut and Nunavik school boards this fall

The pool of qualified, competent teachers available for work in the Arctic is drying up, due to increased demand for teachers in southern Canada.

School enrolments are increasing in the South, where there are fewer new teachers to replace those who have recently retired.

This means many students in the Arctic will end up with young, inexperienced teachers, fresh out of school, and some students may start the school year this fall without any teachers at all.

In the Kivalliq region, where 35 out of 140 teachers are newcomers, Whale Cove's school faces a complete changeover in staff this year, with a new principal and teachers.

But that school can be counted as fortunate.

Some Nunavik students may sit at home

Less than week before classes are due to start, Kiluutaq School in Umiujaq has no teachers for its English sector students, and still needs one teacher for its French language secondary program. If no teachers are found, some students may end up sitting at home, instead of in school.

"They're not going to start, that's it," said an administrator with Nunavik's Kativik School Board.

In the Baffin region, where the education board's personnel office was too "swamped" to answer any questions from a reporter, they're still trying to recruit teachers, just days before most Baffin schools open.

It's the same story all over the Arctic.

Advertising by the Kitikmeot Board of Education netted only 150 applications for the region's 20 vacant positions, a figure termed "dismally low" by board official Ian Critchley.

In the past years, the Kitikmeot board would receive up to 600 applications, without doing any advertising at all.

Teachers with personal problems

"And the type of person who is applying now is different," said Critchley. "Now, we're tending to get people who want to come to the North for some reason. There is still a sense of isolation, and we get people who are running away from something."

But the problem goes beyond the problem of finding experienced teachers with no hidden personal problems.

Keeping teachers is an additional challenge. Many experienced teachers who have been in the Arctic for two, five or even 20 years left this year, a situation affecting the quality of education.

"It's tough," said Joe Taukie, the vice-principal of Cape Dorset's Sam Pudlat School. "The kids get to know the teacher who was here for four or five years. Their communication skills improve, and then it has to start all over again."

Apart from the job boom in the South, the brutal cost of rental housing in Nunavut is often cited as a major reason for the flight of experienced teachers from Nunavut.

Teachers in Nunavut stands to earn at least $50,000 a year, but rents may cost $900 to $1500 a month, taking a big chunk out of their after-tax incomes.

The high cost of housing also discourages some from even looking at jobs in Nunavut.

School boards are telling single-income earners that they won't be well off financially if they move to Nunavut. They encourage single teachers to share lodgings, or look for teaching couples.

Some teachers haven't been able to find suitable housing in Nunavut either.

"That was an incredible stress on them," said Pangnirtung teacher Donald Mearns. "You try to prop them up, but they're not happy. They come here, they're excited, Pang is beautiful and the people are friendly, and then they get a bad taste in their mouth and decide to leave after two years."

Nunavik faces same shortage

Nunavut's reduced benefit package is also said to be a factor in its exodus of teachers.

In Nunavik, teachers may rent subsidized housing for as little as $200 a month and receive two paid trips home a year, but its schools haven't fared much better than Nunavut's.

This year the Kativik School Board had to fill 50 vacant positions, and is struggling to find nine more teachers.

While there's no magic formula for keeping teachers, a dose of community involvement, along with some financial breaks, does appear to help.

In Puvirnituq, where the local school has strong community input into its curriculum and administration, many southern teachers from the South have remained for more than10 years.

Rankin bucks the trend

In Rankin Inlet, there will be only two new faces among 35 teachers this year. Maani Ulaayuk School principal Margo Aksalnik attributes this to the community's lower cost of food and air transport to major cities.

And schools in Rankin Inlet and Arviat have benefitted from bringing in student teachers from the South who do practice teaching in the communities and often choose to return afterwards.

In Coral Harbour, where half the teachers are local residents, staff turnover has also been greatly reduced.

"The long-term solution is to train our own and import less," said Bob Moodie, Nunavut's deputy minister of education. "This will have nothing to do with quality, but if you're from here, you are more likely to stay here."

The Nunavut government plans to invest an additional $2 million this year in teacher training. It also wants to train teachers to teach at the high school level.

"We are going to offer courses for our current elementary teachers who are clustered in the lower grades, so they can get certified for a teaching specialty for the higher grades," said Moodie. "If we train our teachers in the North, it solves several major issues for us at the same time."

In Nunavik, where teacher training programs began more than 20 years ago, many Inuit have qualified as teachers. Some who have completed bachelor of arts programs now teach at the secondary level.

But, according to a Nunavut school board official, graduates from teacher education programs are most successful teaching with Inuktitut-language materials, now available from kindergarten to Grade 3, and in some subjects at the higher grades.

A long-time Nunavut teacher, who agreed to share his thoughts after a guarantee of anonymity, doubts that any Inuit graduate from a teacher training program without a high school or college diploma would feel comfortable teaching advanced courses in subjects such as mathematics.

"If you really want to drop the standard, that's the way to do it. That is really going to kick a hole in the education system," he said.

He said that he's already seen many new Inuit teachers burn out or turn to other employers, such as the Nunavut government, where on-the-job stress is less and the benefits are greater.

"The expectations are very large and the support is falling off," this teacher said. "Who the hell wants to be a teacher?"

Ziua lu' Valentin

Traiesc intr-o societate mult prea comercializata ca sa ma mai impresionez de Valentine's Day si intr-o zona climatica in care in ziua asta esti nevoit sa inoti prin zapada. Prefer sa 'sarbatoresc' iubirea daca nu in fiecare zi, macar in orice zi din an se poate.

Asadar, sa continuam cu un fel de talmes-balmes:


What is love? It is one of the most difficult questions for the mankind. Centuries have passed by, relationships have bloomed and so has love. But no one can give the proper definition of love. To some Love is friendship set on fire for others Maybe love is like luck. You have to go all the way to find it. No matter how you define it or feel it, love is the eternal truth in the history of mankind.
In the past the study of philosophy and religion has done many speculations on the phenomenon of love. But love has always ruled, in music, poetry, paintings, sculptor and literature. Psychology has also done lot of dissection to the essence of love, just like what biology, anthropology and neuroscience has also done to it.
Psychology portrays love as a cognitive phenomenon with a social cause. It is said to have three components in the book of psychology: Intimacy, Commitment, and Passion. Also, in an ancient proverb love is defined as a high form of tolerance. And this view has been accepted and advocated by both philosophers and scholars. Love also includes compatibility. But it is more of journey to the unknown when the concept of compatibility comes into picture. Perhaps the person whom we see in front of us may be least compatible than the person who is miles away. We might talk to each other and portray that we love each other, but practically we do not end up into any relationship. Also in compatibility, the key is to think about the long term successful relationship, not a short journey. We need to understand each other and must always remember that nobody is perfect.


« Il n’y a pas d’amour heureux », écraivait Aragon le poète. Sheryl Gaudet constate pour sa part que même un amour heureux porte des souffrances. « On n’a jamais de garantie, dit-elle. Tout ce que l’on sait, c’est que, pour maintenir le fil, on traversera des passes éprouvantes. »
Rien ne peut nous protéger des avatars de l’amour. Qu’on se la tienne pour dit, le bonheur aseptisé n’existe pas. Autant le savoir tout de suite, aimer signifie prendre des risques. Parce que certaines crises viendront troubler notre ciel, parce qu’on vivra une part des angoisses et des désarrois de l’autre. Une réalité qui, au fond, n’est pas si dramatique que ça.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNjIB-7hnls

Bob

because I just love this actor. and I don't want him to die. and actually he will never die.

Robert DeNiro may best be known for his impressive body of work in dramatic film, but his more recent forays into comedy aren't coming out of nowhere. As he proved in his acceptance speech for the Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Achievement Award at the Golden Globes, DeNiro has comedic chops to spare.

In a sharp, satirical speech, DeNiro made jabs at the Hollywood Foreign Press Assocation, Homeland Security, 3-D and even his own recent movie. "I was very, very moved and gratified when you made the announcement [of this award] two months ago," he said. "Well before you had a chance to review 'Little Fockers.'"

"These movies ... are like my children. Except that my children are more expensive and you can't remake them in 3-D to push up the grosses," DeNiro said. "At a certain point you just have to let both of them go and hope for the best. It's up to the audiences to decide if it's entertainment, the critics to decide if it's goods, and ultimately posterity to decide if it's art."

After 40 years in the film business, DeNiro has made more films that have achieved the status of art than many actors have made films at all. He's proven himself capable as a brilliant and versatile actor, and now be can add stand-up comic to his repertoire.(by The Editors of TV Squad, Jan 17th 2011 01:30AM)

Close the f.....g door! (if u got the message)

Anunt pus de barbatu-meu la locul de munca (a pissed-off Transylvanian's unique style):

Doors first appeared in the 7th Millennium B.C., as a special need in a very important human activity: crossing from one room to another. Thus, doors were invented as part of a wall, not a decoration item for a room. The walls need to be continuous, that is why the doors need to be closed. Time has passed and a slow process of alienation erased the initial meaning of such an important invention. In case you too forgot, this is to politely ask you to close the fucking door.
Thank you.

Crawling in the Dark

I will dedicate
And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth
Of how my story's ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing
Show me what it's for
Make me understand it
I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer
Is there something more than what I've been handed?
I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer
Help me carry on
Assure me it's ok to use my heart and not my eyes
To navigate the darkness

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOHxtOLfvIo&ob=av3nm

My resolutions for 2011

(ar trebui sa incep cu: sa ma invat sa scriu '2011' in loc de '2010')

- learn how to say NO (with or without a smile);
- stop being nice to everyone/all freaks;
- be much nicer to my soul.

Grade quebecoase de frig

Nu in Celsius vs Fahrenheit, ci grade de resimtit frigul, chiar si de catre cei mai dîrji bastinasi:

1. il fait froid (nimic iesit din comun, doar e iarna)
2. il fait pas chaud (uneori se adauga, ca fals avantaj, faptul ca macar nu vezi nici un tzîntzar)
3. il fait frette (devine deranjant)
4. il fait frette en tabarnak (ca azi dimineata, adica -22 felt like -32)
5. câââââlice (nobody feels like talking anymore, deja simti apartenenta la Polu’ Nord si te intrebi de ce nu esti ocrotit de legi speciale privind absenteismul de la lucru)

PS: Pentru non-rezidentii de Québec se recomanda un ghid lamuritor: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quebec_French_profanity

Cuba libre

M-am intors din Cuba de o saptamina. O intoarcere de-a dreptul dramatica, a 2-a in top dupa intoarcerea la Turda in urma unei luni petrecute in Franta.
Cuba nu are cum sa nu-ti intre la suflet: peisajul, clima, ritmurile de salsa, romul, autenticitatea vietii de acolo, caldura si naturaletea oamenilor cu care aproape ne-am imprietenit - dragul de ospatar ce statea lipit de Nathalia, care seamana cu fiica lui pe cind avea virsta asta, vinzatorul de rom in ``amabalaj`` de cocos de pe plaja de care tirziu am inteles ca striga ``coco``; hotelul deschis spre soare si ``prost`` izolat (cum o fi sa nu existe iarna?), camera cu vedere spre plaja, terasa, papagalii zgomotosi din hol, dreranjati in permanenta de turistii zgomotosi, autobuzul de Havana, pina si taxiurile ce claxoneaza la tot pasul, chipul lui El Comandante pe toate zidurile, vederile si souvenirurile (nu putea fi mai bine ales momentul pentru a ne uita la filmul ``Che``, in care Benicio del Toro does a great job playing this Cuban God; dupe ce-l vezi, iti vine sa spui invers: ca Che seamana cu Benicio), farmecul ruinelor, culoarea oceanului, a nisipului, a cladirilor, verdele nesfirsit al vegetatiei, cerul albastru, vintul din palmieri. O alta lume. Intr-o singura saptamina nu apuci sa vezi tot ce e dincolo si cit de crunta e saracia oamenilor de rind, dar deja ai timp sa incepi sa te simti prost pentru luxul tau de turist si pentru bucuria lor sincera cind primesc un sapun, o pasta de dinti sau alte chestii marunte.
Pe un zid era scris: `La fiesta es en el sol`. Si atunci am inteles ce simpla e cheia fericirii lor. Si cum nimeni nu le-o poate confisca, cu sau fara comunism.
Pauza de oftat. Nemaistiind ce sa scriu, o dau pe citate din Le devoir:
Il serait souhaitable que tous nous allions nous promener à Cuba pour juger de l'effet de 50 ans d'embargo, pour discuter avec les Cubains pour connaître leurs aspirations, pour connaître leurs misères et leurs joies, pour tout simplement les connaître et savoir si Wal-Mart leur manque vraiment.