While trying to dodge the rain without realizing ' absurdity of the bus and vomited a stream of people running to escape, as if the rain was not enough, there on the narrow sidewalks of the Porte de Namur, you stick to race in the supermarket where he finally seemed to find peace and bustle of the street goes off suddenly, as if a curtain at the entrance had been closed and not automatic door behind you, as if there was another world outside of voices, traffic, umbrellas and quick steps. For a few minutes behind you. Already you know you take and not have to waste time finding something to eat during the break then the evening course in French, when the teacher leaves the class for a little 'and the alphabets of a sudden they wake up and mix if there are countrymen around, when you can not (or do not feel like) to feel imprisoned in the subset of known words in French, otherwise it is the lingua franca, English accents different, to take over and dominate the conversation at least until the teacher will not be back. And Brussels is all there, between four walls.
And while, at the supermarket, waiting in line for your turn to pay here is that you find yourself in front of two worlds almost touching: the case left is a woman with Arab features, wearing the Islamic headscarf, a hiijab or some variant, while the cash right in front of you, there is a nun from western features, she wears a veil , one of his order (whatever that is), but a veil that covers almost as much as the first. Unusual image that you capture in an instant. See the two women there, behind each other, each with his head covered by a veil , each in his religion or in any way in its recognition of symbols, group of of belonging, to recognize and identify , to show others the community of origin and not only imprisonment, bonds, home or extremism remain unsolved, platitudes, or easy generalizations beliefs often associated with banners and propaganda meanings that sometimes forgiveness the signifier of origin. While the cashier
passively calculates the price, then, think about how many people there today that the second would entrust her child even for a few hours, the image of the selfless nun and blessed by the blue veil, color and purity of heaven, while the first, the black veil of darkness e male, non lo avrebbe lasciato neanche per qualche minuto, quasi fosse da bruciare viva come le streghe nel medioevo. E invece la strega stava lì, a pochi centimetri dalla beata , senza fiamme né angeli canterini, solo la vita, che continua per fortuna, portandosi dietro i suoi significanti e dimenticando, ignorando, contraddicendo tanti significati.
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