Small observatory
Saturday, 11 January of 2014
I have opened a copy of The newspaper where some facts produced in some years ended in 13, Like the one we just lived. One of the news refers to Tibet.
The Tibet became China in China 1913. Perhaps the fact of belonging to a very rugged territory favored that the Tibet was very isolated and, That I know, with little presence of outsiders. Power was disputed by feudal families and religious communities, that they had a remarkable power throughout all time.
When I went to India years ago, Some cars took us upstairs and I could see how the day was born on the side of the Himalayas. An immense almost theatrical horizon, high, half gray and half bluish. From India I couldn't go to Tibet, not because of the height of the mountains but because that territory had been occupied by the Chinese army. Don't have, well, No direct knowledge of Tibet, But indirect. It was in Nepal, Country that has a border with China. Walking for Katmandú -You will forgive me, But I have not just walked for the Segarra or the Priorat- I discovered on the outskirts a kind of alley where there were a few men sitting on the ground, one next to another. In front of them, also on the ground, They had a series of objects, glasses and dishes, Many brass, Decorated with stripes and colored spots. They were Tibetans who had taken refuge in India, Fleeing from the Chinese, and tried to survive.
Over the years, The memory falters, But I still see those refugees and I hear, If I can say so, Your silence. I had met, In other countries in the East, A SELLERS CHARLATANS, cloying and even a bit aggressive. Those refugee tibetans, With their boats and craft dishes, They said nothing. Simply, They looked how it happened. Dejected by destiny. I was the exotic
