Zhōngguó 25 YEARS AGO

 Written by Alceu Natali. Copyright protected by Law # 9610/1998

 

In the 90's I went to China several times. They say that in the last 25 years this nation has changed a lot, which I believe will be the greatest world power, perhaps in another 20 or, at most, 30 years. Even some American sci-fi, futuristic and time-travel films like Looper, set in 2044's USA, and 2074's Zhōngguó, prophesy, China is the future. If one day I go back there, definitely not for work, I don't expect to support the same series of hilarious episodes from more than 25 years ago, which advanced in 5 seasons, and impelled me, with pleasure, to reduce them to spoilers, word that is in vogue, although vogue is out of fashion. Guangzhou, the Canton of the Portuguese, was the stage for my Avant Premiere. I had a problem when I arrived, too small for this great land of despicable inconveniences. My suitcase was left there in Bangkok. The airline promised to deliver it to the hotel in two days. Later, I would find that this promise was nothing like the word-of-mouth invitations we usually receive around here: 'Drop by my place anyday', hoping you'll never show up. The hotel I booked was very close to the airport. I could get there on foot, but as it was raining heavily, I took a taxi, and I was caught by the only smart ass I could find among more than a billion simpletons and sweet slanted eyes. He charged me 10 dollars to drive less than 500 meters. Bad feelings: Lost luggage and a cheating taxi driver. I had appointments on the next day, and I needed to change clothes and buy toiletries. The hotel receptionist recommended a mall nearby. I walked about four blocks to reach the small two-story building. It had everything I needed. I just didn't know if the pants I picked fit. I passed along the ways looking for a fitting room, but I couldn't find it. I asked a young woman who appeared to be a saleswoman for help. No one spoke English or Portuguese there, and I spoke neither Mandarin nor Cantonese. Apparently, she understood my gestures. She nodded, explained in Chinese, but she didn't point to any direction. I had the strangest feeling that she was saying something like, ''you should put on one leg at a time, lift your pants up to your waist and button them.'' I kept wandering, looking in all directions. I went back to the men's clothing section, and at the end of the hall I saw a Chinese man choosing a pair of pants. This one could definitely show me where the men's private cabin was. Suddenly, he took off his pants and was down to his underwear and calmly tried on various models, while the comings and goings of customers and salespeople, men and women, ignored him. I began to realize that the saleswoman's explanation was not as strange as I thought. That scene reminded me of the American proverb: 'When in Rome do as the Romans do'. So, there I was, in a public space, in a shirt, socks, shoes and boxer shorts, taking my time, why hurry?, to find the pants that best fit my body. I was the only Westerner in that department store. The chinese people just looked at my face. They'd all seen many men in underwear in public many, many times. I wondered where women tried on underwear and tops, panties, bras, dresses, skirts and blouses. I discovered, through an Aristotelian syllogism alone, that the mall had no dressing rooms or bathrooms. Wearing only his underwear was the minor premise. The major one was another Chinese man, next to me, trying on a swim trunks in the blink of an eye. I used my reason because any kind of gesture asking for the location of a toilet could be risky. It was too early to be excited about the freedom of bodily expression, naked for incomplete, in a culture I was just beginning to probe. It was difficult to resist the temptation to hang around in the women's section, waiting, unscrupulously, to witness what I was tired of seeing, in broad daylight, in some corners of the Forest Garden near home and on the benches of London's Hyde Park. Fatigue, due to the long 22-hour trip, alerted me that duty was calling me. I arrived at the hotel, exhausted, collapsed into bed, got a good night's sleep, and woke up feeling refreshed for my first day at work in the middle country. This is the meaning of China. This story goes way too far. You ain't seen nothing yet!

TRÊS TERÇOS POR UM QUARTO QUARTEIRÃO

Texto de autoria de Alceu Natali com direito autoral protegido pela Lei 9610/98. LEIA O TEXTO AO SOM DA MÚSICA DO VÍDEO POSTADO NO FIM. Sem ela, a vida seria um erro (Friedrich Nietzsche)

Meu melhor amigo da música teve a vida tirada à força, Antes de completar menos de dois terços da minha, Não me pergunte como cheguei até aqui, Se o universo se esqueceu de mim, Porque ainda ocupo o espaço de outro, Meu melhor amigo das letras teve a vida levada pela natureza, Antes de completar menos de dois terços da minha, Não me pergunte porque ela preferiu a mim, Se o universo teve influência em sua decisão, Se os dois agem apenas por instinto animal, Posso ser um enfermo durante a noite que não pode ser abandonado, Que é preciso ter alguém para me medicar a tempo e a horas, Posso ser um vaso ruim durante o dia que não pode ser quebrado, Esperando que as ausências de amigos se prolonguem, Até que nossa solidão a dois nos separe completamente, O melhor amigo que nunca conheci teve a vida tirada por acidente, Ao completar pouco mais de um terço da minha, Pergunto-me se há sorte que me protege, Se há mero acaso que faz algum sentido, Se há privilégio algum concedido pela morte, O melhor amigo que nunca conheci teve a vida tirada pelo destino, Ao completar pouco mais de um terço da minha, Pergunto-me o que a vida quer de mim, Já que o universo nunca lhe deu qualquer significado, E seus filhos só cuidam de meus pecados, Não devo passar de uma desordem na evolução do universo e que desconhece o que é ser perdoado, Que se parece com amor, E pode tanto comigo, Que donde entre por meu melhor e desconhecido amigo, Se levanta por senhor, Não devo ser um milagre de cera, De couro, E de prata, Que gente que me desconhece, Traz para colocar nos devidos lugares de uma sacristia, Que se parece com felicidade, E pode tanto com minha mão, Que donde entre pela vigésima quinta idade, Se levanta de três terços por um quarto quarteirão.