Ankara, Tuesday, November 6, 2012


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This morning the cries of help of the old heater were heard! The gods of war descended into the kitchen of our peaceful apartment-salita. Before 10:00 a.m., they were there, armed with their infernal device.In order to familiarize with comfort (heating and very hot showers) we had not imagined to withstand life at the construction site and the sound of the pneumatic drill. Just enough time to have a showers, I leave Mars, Aries, Tyr and Onoris. I am looking for peace in the Park and have some coffee with my pal, Mani, and he is joined soon by all our cathar and bogomil friends (Christoph). They were with us during the whole day! Life was difficult while there was war in the Salita, so we decided to take a walk in the city and assault the byzantine citadel, passing by the temple of Augustus where I read to Christoph some beautiful manichean writings.

The way up is hard and the exchange regarding our adored themes become more powerful, accompanying the landscape we encounter. The Manichean or Cathar heretics or “perfect ones” were burned by the “righteous” and contradictory Christians: and so we found ourselves in the middle of beautiful, ancient houses, often in ruins and along narrow and potholed roads of the ancient village of Ankara. High above on the ramparts, the view is clear and in this elevated place we know that all these good persons who passed – and us today – are hear with the hope of freeing parcels of light, even though the way up is difficult and if certain spaces give vertigo... However, we will not rise anymore, because we are not at ease on the narrow ramparts.

We rejoin the Salita to discover our old heater, abandoned, stretched, torn in the middle of the floor. Then we left (yes it was an exhausting day...) for our evening date at the Babil Cafe. Before that; however, we tried to give out a hundred invitations our so to the Well Being ceremony in the neighboring streets. Turkey isn’t very different from our West. I feel the strong contrast between the amused looks of those who pick up the small paper and the closedness of those who do not even want to meet my gaze. I feel very irritated by that, it is not my true North. This small somber moment passes once we’re in our favorite cafe and that we are joined by Ümit, Yuksel and Huseyin. There was nobody new at the ceremony, but the pleasure of seeing Ümit again, whom we hadn’t seen for quite a while. We liked it better to do the ceremony somewhere else, in an open space with some background music. One of the songs reminded me of a friend in need, another piece had taken the surprising journey from Toulouse (Cristoph’s home) to Anakra... as if our Guides had stayed there with us, until the end of the day, watching over us, going as far as putting the music we asked....

Thank you for these beautiful moments,
Denis

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