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Originally uploaded by koalica

I have been to Amsterdam for a week. Indeed, it was one of the stranger experiences. Not the town itself, not its canals, not its row of almost "spot-the-difference" houses, not its have-a-good time marvels. Not that, but the human bonding. Right now, I don’t feel anything in particular about Amsterdam, which is strange for me – since, I am by definition a flaneur, who likes the pace and the feel of the urban spaces. Amsterdam is somehow blurry, like the weather up there, like the endless flatlands and as murky as the land crisscrossed with canals and humidity. Because, what happened in Amsterdam makes it just a scene, just a stage for that something that intertwined two, maybe even three people. If one can count me in, since I was a witness, a helper, a facilitator. Almost, Kafkian figure of helper, but then, much more eloquent.
It’s the question of love, after all. It’s the question of simple and banal human lovemaking. And, yet, it is strange when one finds itself among its mists – not as the one directly involved, but as someone who is present and who observes. Observers in matters of love are having a absolutely singular position, that is somewhere between “heaven and hell”, pathetically speaking, since it is not an active role, not completely passive one. I would say that observer in the matters of love is the absolute pervert and the transgressor. Observer is by definition a pornographer.
The two, the couple are my best friend and a man, who came out of nowhere. My best friend, is epitome of many graces and enchanting spirit that comes from ultimate female insecurity and self indulging neurotic manifestations. It is charming this combination because it is the sign of somebody intelligent and sensitive, complicated and funny, somebody who can be many things and not just one, and not just boring one. In the same time, this charm is pampered with the incoherence of egocentric “moods” – but it is a reasonable price to pay. My best friend and I know each other for a very long time, and I think that we mutually appreciate our good/bad personal traits. We can endure each other with lots of mutual love.
That man who came out of nowhere is exactly that. Someone. Someone who has been expected to come into my best friends life for very long time. Not exactly the prince with shining amour, but close. Almost perfect, if I should express myself in a romantic fashion. Someone, who fulfils my friend’s cravings for emotional stability and security. Someone, indeed, particularly well suited. Someone apparently full of many good characteristics and yet, too little time, to really have a full grasp of the them, there.
It could have been a very banal story of falling in love, if I wasn’t there. I fear that it is anyways, as love stories usually are. It is just, that my by-standing was in most cases inevitable and that I have learned that by-standing is beyond innocence in every possible sense. The bystander wants to get involved, wants to have something to say, wants to change courses of things. And in the same time bystander knows how futile this ambition is.
And yet the other two profit from the bystander. They profit form bystanders disinterest, from dispossessed and aimless nature of the third party, from perverse enjoyment of the by-standing. This third party gives structure, gives its expertise, its authority (and there we can go back to the figure of auctor) on the situation that is going to be materialized. And this giving is irreversibly taken.
In playing this game, my trip to Amsterdam passed. Luckily and again, not in a samll part because of my total lack of energy and scruples, the couple finally has defined itself as couple. My moral lacking as to someone who could have been more an arbiter and less a “transgressive” communicator, is leaving me with sense of guilt that is beyond the guilt of the couple involved. Because, there are people that were hurt in the process - people that are left behind.
And so, if I try to summarize my stay in the Northern Flatland I would say – well it was blurry and guilt ridden. But, I managed to see Rotterdam, the great port with its endless skyline of cranes, docks and ships. Mighty sight. And I managed to walk around Delft, and to admire its sleepy streets, and night lights that gave this little town fairytale like, almost Christmassy atmosphere.

And I managed to grasp a bit the logics behind “l’anomalie hollandaise” of the golden century. And I have learnt to appreciate the advantages of the tumultuous, extrovert and communitarian “love” that South so effortlessly generates.

U Amsterdamu sam. To je izuzetno lep grad. Voda i red. U njemu je tesko izgubiti se. Za razliku od Venecije, koja je sva satakana od mrezastih sirenja, lavirint. No, ponekada, pored prostora, grada, tu su i ljudski odnos, tesko razlucivi. Ponekada, sasvim zamagljeni. Ponekada tako brutalno jednostavno, da postaju nejasni. U mom slucaju, to je onaj udeo transfera. Kada ljudi, oko mene, do kojih mi je stalo, pocinju da sire energiju koja je neubicajena za posetu, za upoznavanje grada. Kada pocinju da traze. Traze odgovor za svoj zivot, traze radikalnu promenu koja treba da razresi toliko toga. Do tada, sve je to samo preklapanje. Mali razgovor medju prijateljima. Od tog trenutka, od trenutka materijalizacije, sve postaje na cas zamagljeno i nejasno, a potom to nesto drugo preuzima svoju oblik i pravac. Ali momenat transfera, momenat metamorfoze, ukoliko sam u blizini toga, je za mene potpuno zaglusujuci. Na kraju moja enegrija biva iscrpljena. Ukoliko je ovo slucaj, onaj koji se sada desava tu oko mene, ja, sekundat, kazem, mozda, jos uvek, tu u okolini, ovih kanala i kuca strmih stepenica, postoje alhemijski tragovi. A, ono pitanje koje ostaje iza "madjije" je vezano za predjeni prostor, za to sto se na kraju ocekuje, na proizvod tranformacije. Materija. I pitam se, gde, kuda, koji se to oblik na obzorju pojavljuje, ja sekundant. A znam, da ta moja pitanja ne vrede vise nista - kada se pojavi, ta ocekivana materija, sve i svi ostali, odlaze u pozadinu, nazad na pozicije...

Za vikend sam bila na francuskom selu - region Sarthe. Na pola puta izmedju Chartres-a i Le Mansa-a... Stanica u pripizdini, onda po tebe dodje taksi i odvede do malog mesta - ne vise od 30 kuca, crkva, kasno romanicka, omanji chateau i nepregledna polja. Kao i uvek, moj utisak o Franuckoj - toliko zemlje, toliko oranica. Samo mi se cini da je zemlja nekako debela, puna, bremenita. Nasuprot tome nase ravnice mi se uvek cine pune prostora i kao da se istanjuju, malo po malo, u toj svojoj sirini. Melanholija puste.

Mala kuca napravljena od blata i kamenja, seoska kuca - to je bogato selo, uokolo sume kestena i hrasta. Iako nije prebogato i ljudi su skromni. Svi uokolo gledaju ragbi u subotu - Francuska igra protiv Engleske, a ja, ipak, u sebi najvijam za Engleze, jer me sve podseca na Henrija V, na bitku kod Agincourta, iako je to bilo na severu, kod Calais-a. I Englezi pobedise i bi mi zao Francuza i njihovog underdog stava. Opet se pitam - kako je moguce da ovde svi znaju nesto o ragbiju, cak i onaj vozac taksija na Montparnasse stanici, koji je dosao negde iz Zapadne Afrike. On je juce navijao za Juznu Afriku - za Afriku u principu. Afriku sa tim tvrdim R.

Pariz je stvarno izuzetno lep u jesen, ukoliko se dogodi da je jesen blaga i vedra. Opet me muči noga, a u mojoj pustopoljini se ne dešava ništa novo. Moram da odmaram nogu što ispada kao da se nalazim u nešto slobodnijem zatvoru.

Juče sam pozvana na druženje i večeru, ali nisam išla jer sam već krenula do grada da kupim nešto za jelo i da vidim sveta. Bile su Les nuits blanches - manifestacija u kojo se utuca puno para i na kraju ne dogodi ništa posebno...Da, Pariz je crna rupa za umetnost...

Dve sestre, valjda bliznakinje, se još uvek suludo svađaju na arapskom - to zvuči kao apsoultna histerija, toliko da ispada smešno. Plus, lupaju vratima. Od francuskih reči jedna je vikala - Tu es sauvage et mauvaise - i razmišljam kakav tankoćutni jezik, na srpskom bi se to reklo mnogo gore, brate/sestro..

Od sutra ću ponovo u biblioteku. Tu je utočište...

Slušam Sama Cooka - genije...Sugar Dumpling (o ženi koja kuva kada god on pozove, divno) i naravno neverovatna Change is gonna come...Kakav osećaj za frazu je imao Sam Cook, kakav glas...iz ničega, iz apsolutno banalnog, iz glupog, nešto veliko i potresno...to je bluz... između lamentacije i jublilacije, između celebration i melanholije, nema razlike, ali da je to upravo prostor kreacije, taj vakum, to gotovo pa isto, gotovo pa trik...

Povratak u Nanterre je uključio i posetu Stuttgartu. Odnosno, smislila sam, a još to me je došlo izuzetno povoljno da iz Zagreba letim Germanwingsom za Stuttgart, a da zatim uzmem TGV za Pariz. Voz inače ide 3 i po sata. No, neke su smetnje na prugama pa ćemo verovatno kasniti oko pola sata - da li da im tražim povrata novca?

Inace, Stuttgart je prvi nemački grad u koji sam kročila nogom. Dvorac, puno mladog sveta, danas je bio praznik ujedinjenja (nisam shvatila kog), sede na travi, izgledaju relativno relaksirani. Nemačka je jedna čudna kombinacija bogatstva i nekakve bizarne socijale - socijale koja to nije. Valjda tome doprinose sve te nove zgrade, te prilično uske perspektive urbaniteta...Opet, capuccino u muzejskom kafeu je odličan. Kada i u Stuttgartu prave bolju kafu nego u Parizu, to je već za razmisliti...

Posle kratke šetnje muvala sam se po stanici - gore, dole, pitala za kartu (da li da je validiram pre polaska) jer sam primetila da je niko ne ponistava pre ulaska u voz, a kako sam ja istrenirana u Italiji i Francukoj to mi je bilo čudno. Rečeno mi je, u Nemačkoj, to se ne radi. Ah, kakva sloboda.

Kupila sam i nemački sudoku - Premium, pa da vidimo kako to funkcioniše.

Sve u svemu, osećala sam se kao Japanka. Toliko ništa ne znam o Nemačkoj, niti razumem, da sam se osećala da upravo pionirski koračam po jednoj EU zemlji o kojoj tek stičem, prve utiske. Kao crvenkapa.

Nije tako bilo u Beču, o Parizu i pored svih francuskih ludila još i manje, a Italija mi je uvek izgledala kao druga kuća...

Ovog meseca planiram da posetim Holandiju - e tu sam tek tabula rasa...

A Mediteran dođe, tako, kao nekakva zajednička zgrada, razuđena, prilično rqsklimatanam doduše...