Melis Menent

They stayed in. They stayed within the walls: of their minds, of their cities and those of their communities. Limits of thought were determined, for them. Long before they were born. How much of it could they change? How much of it can I change? I have finished preparing my Bourgignon for myself. I do find it nourishing, while I base my feeling on new readings. Readings on nutrition as well as on history. Books which you can hear are so much better than persons who disturb you. Howcome there are so many people interested in bullying? I am certainly surrounded by many in my own ‘Bourg’. The Bourg of Nicosia.

Those who kept the Bourgs kept doing the same things. They were on repeat, like I am. They cherished neighbourhood and local values, like we have to do with Corona. They spoke the language of one another and were shut off to the outside. Like we do now. The inhabitants of the Bourgs protected themselves, with sameness. Xenophobia was not a problem for those in power. Neither did the ‘locals’ felt bad as they kept comparing themselves to those others who were not surrounded by walls. Walls protected them. Walls hide, things we can’t see. A sense of conviviality emerges where violence could publicly pose in its big ugly grin. The grin of a non-Cheshire cat.

A podcast by an international institution yesterday put a number on the problem: one third of all the women in the world. Got harassed; in one way or another. Did the walls keep the grinning monster in? Do the roads do? The road is full of the dirt falling from the sky. As are the minds of the people surrounding me. The physicality of a neighbourhood.