To @tarjetaVisi, @PremiaPro y @crossingborder, for the music, the bikes and the boat.
My thoughts are ice-cold and I nearly got killed, atomised by a bicycle*. Here they are all scattered as if in a cycling thermonuclear reaction, where everyone crosses the street from everywhere, splitting the atoms of a thermophobic landscape.
Last night I went to a dinner party where I met my extraordinary translators, Myrthe and Noel, in the flesh. I also met my splendid hosts Elinor and Rivkah. At the table we are all very young (authors, translators and hosts). We all seem wet behind the ears and, to start with, we looked really serious. Maybe because we lacked confidence, or because we lacked a bit of wine to laugh out loud, as I did when Myrthe told me she’s scared of animals, even her goldfish: she doesn’t touch it in case it jumps and bites her (woof, woof, woof!). She told me that as a little girl she wanted to study the violin but her father said no, because that would mean seven years of nothing but noise. They decided she would study the piano instead – which is weird because her dad is a drummer, and a drum kit, no matter how pianissimo you play it, is always noisy.
We also talked about politics, where we see the existence of a candidate like Donald Trump as a bad omen, and agree on how crucial this election in the States will be for the rest of the world. Especially for my country, I think. There is a saying that goes: poor Mexico, so far from God and so close to the United States! They also say that if the US sneezes, Mexico catches pneumonia. Most worrying is the fact that this election is laden with racial hatred. Hitler gave free rein to his hatred and it ended in millions of deaths. The bombings in Syria have forced thousands of people out of their country. Everyone remembers the image of the little boy drowned on the beach, an image that shows the decline of human solidarity. Not long ago the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union with Brexit. I read that those who voted out defend their turf above all else, arguing that migrants steal, among other things, the jobs from young Britons.
I’m young and being young has never been synonymous with stupidity. That’s why I’m worried about this hate campaign that spreads to every society in the world, and that is aimed at the most vulnerable and helpless. I’m terrified of Donald Trump’s hatred when he says: “Mexico only sends drugs and rapists to the US.” No! The world shouldn’t revolve around tyrants and, instead of building walls, we should build bridges for human understanding. Dialogue should be the starting point to turn borders from death traps into bridges of hope.
I ask myself today, on this cold Dutch early morning: could art be the real bridge to erasing borders, to cross them, to help us sail to every port without going under as a species? Maybe using culture and the arts to influence world politics would be the ultimate utopia. Wouldn’t it be great if instead of guns and political speeches we made guitars and sang songs? So far, this festival is the best port I’ve departed from. So today, with guitars, bicycles, drum kits, violins, pianos, letters and cold weather, we shall sail much better.
*This is not to say I don’t like bicycles. On the contrary, I love that Dutch streets are full of bikes, unlike in my own country, where they are crammed with cars and smog.