My OperaCiudad Colon
Monday, February 18, 2008 4:55:37 PM
Sounds of metal scratching on the ground interrupted our conversation. We stopped talking abruptly and turned to look at an old man wearing an apron, raking leaves and litter just a few steps away. "He's a character", said Marcos.
The old man quickly moved from the pavement to the street, where tight rows of cars and their headlights could not prevent him from doing his job. His gray hair curved around his long, wrinkle face, on which permanent traits of time can be seen and felt. Nevertheless, every of his movements differed from what you thought you would observe from a silent street cleaner: he strode, his back stayed straight, his raking appeared appealingly decisive, and the way he just stepped in the line of coming cars, to reach for more litter, was full of indifference and confidence - as though it was something trivial.
"We see him here very often. He just stays around and helps people. Sometimes he cleans the street, like this. But if you need help, just come and ask him and he'll be truly happy to help you." Explained Marcos, putting aside our ongoing conversation about UPeace.
"Isn't he a street cleaner?"
"No,no. He just does it because he wants to."
"And not that he's homeless, either." He went on. "I often see him in early mornings, just some blocks away from here. He always wears clean clothes, brushed hair, holding roses..."
Our eyes followed his thin and tall figure, worming its way through the crowd of cars and smoke. "Does he live in the area?"
"Yeah. We just don't know exactly where."
"We should talk to him, you know."
"Oh, some did. He's kind of knowledgeable too, especially about capitals. If you tell him where you are from, he'll tell you what your country's capital is. Me, I have no idea what the capital of Vietnam is, but I know he does."
We looked again at the rows of red and yellow lights, tenfolds more crowded than usual because of an ongoing festival. "Where is he?"
The old man and his rake had disappeared somewhere in the commotion of engines and smoke.
"It's really hard for UPeace students to really make a change if they just stay for 1 year, I guess?" I asked as we wandered back to where we were before his appearance. "Every year, the new generation comes; and it takes time for them to rediscover the problem and to start everything over again. There's no passing on or continuation, and that way, it's hard to make any progress."
"I agree. And people have different levels of interest too. There's a professor who is really devoted to UPeace and making it better. But most of the people just want to live with it, because after one year, all this thing won't matter for them. And after all, this is not what they have expected. You don't really gain more than you could have - if yes, maybe it's just the reputation of United Nations."
"It's just a brand name, nothing more than that... or is it?"
"Nothing more than that. And we really had to question our education and knowledge when, in model UN, UWC students outdid all of us. And I mean, common, we are master students, and you are high school kids. Some of us even worked for the UN. But we weren't as good."
"Well," I raised my hand and felt the wind sweeping through its fingers, " things are the same everywhere, UWC has its own issues too. There are vision and reality, and there's the gap between them. Outsiders only see the ideal vision; insiders, on the other hand, live in reality. If you expect no gap at all, then you will surely be disappointed. The question is actually : what will you do about it? In that aspect, we may be in a more advantage situation than you are, since our classes are 2 years."
The image of the silent raking old man flashed back in my mind. "Things are the same everywhere", they really are. Not just UPeace or UWC students' and their schools, but individuals beliefs, like mine, were also under the same principles. There's vision of what we would like things to be - and believe that they would be one day - and there's reality. It always seemed to me that "the evil" - as Tendai liked to name it - had dominated the good. But once in a while, I encountered people like this old man, or the woman who got off the bus long before her destination just to show me the way here - and I was again assured that I was not believing for nothing.
The old man quickly moved from the pavement to the street, where tight rows of cars and their headlights could not prevent him from doing his job. His gray hair curved around his long, wrinkle face, on which permanent traits of time can be seen and felt. Nevertheless, every of his movements differed from what you thought you would observe from a silent street cleaner: he strode, his back stayed straight, his raking appeared appealingly decisive, and the way he just stepped in the line of coming cars, to reach for more litter, was full of indifference and confidence - as though it was something trivial.
"We see him here very often. He just stays around and helps people. Sometimes he cleans the street, like this. But if you need help, just come and ask him and he'll be truly happy to help you." Explained Marcos, putting aside our ongoing conversation about UPeace.
"Isn't he a street cleaner?"
"No,no. He just does it because he wants to."
"And not that he's homeless, either." He went on. "I often see him in early mornings, just some blocks away from here. He always wears clean clothes, brushed hair, holding roses..."
Our eyes followed his thin and tall figure, worming its way through the crowd of cars and smoke. "Does he live in the area?"
"Yeah. We just don't know exactly where."
"We should talk to him, you know."
"Oh, some did. He's kind of knowledgeable too, especially about capitals. If you tell him where you are from, he'll tell you what your country's capital is. Me, I have no idea what the capital of Vietnam is, but I know he does."
We looked again at the rows of red and yellow lights, tenfolds more crowded than usual because of an ongoing festival. "Where is he?"
The old man and his rake had disappeared somewhere in the commotion of engines and smoke.
"It's really hard for UPeace students to really make a change if they just stay for 1 year, I guess?" I asked as we wandered back to where we were before his appearance. "Every year, the new generation comes; and it takes time for them to rediscover the problem and to start everything over again. There's no passing on or continuation, and that way, it's hard to make any progress."
"I agree. And people have different levels of interest too. There's a professor who is really devoted to UPeace and making it better. But most of the people just want to live with it, because after one year, all this thing won't matter for them. And after all, this is not what they have expected. You don't really gain more than you could have - if yes, maybe it's just the reputation of United Nations."
"It's just a brand name, nothing more than that... or is it?"
"Nothing more than that. And we really had to question our education and knowledge when, in model UN, UWC students outdid all of us. And I mean, common, we are master students, and you are high school kids. Some of us even worked for the UN. But we weren't as good."
"Well," I raised my hand and felt the wind sweeping through its fingers, " things are the same everywhere, UWC has its own issues too. There are vision and reality, and there's the gap between them. Outsiders only see the ideal vision; insiders, on the other hand, live in reality. If you expect no gap at all, then you will surely be disappointed. The question is actually : what will you do about it? In that aspect, we may be in a more advantage situation than you are, since our classes are 2 years."
The image of the silent raking old man flashed back in my mind. "Things are the same everywhere", they really are. Not just UPeace or UWC students' and their schools, but individuals beliefs, like mine, were also under the same principles. There's vision of what we would like things to be - and believe that they would be one day - and there's reality. It always seemed to me that "the evil" - as Tendai liked to name it - had dominated the good. But once in a while, I encountered people like this old man, or the woman who got off the bus long before her destination just to show me the way here - and I was again assured that I was not believing for nothing.
