The Donkey Incident
2.
As
we calmly pass by him, and he doesn’t seem in any way interested in us or intrigued
by our presence in the suq in such a large number, we notice that his donkey is relieving
himself on the ground as it walks. People begin to point at it and laugh, although they
must have seen such a scene a thousand times before; as for the tourists, well, they stop
and begin taking pictures of
course. After all, they are here to document our shame.
3.
Naturally,
I cannot let this opportunity go unexploited, can I?
4.
“Ten thousands years ago, such a sight was considered to be a sign of
civilization.” I say without bothering to stop or slow down. “For cities were just getting established then, in Jericho, Çatal
Hüyük and elsewhere; donkey shit was just a hapless by-product of the newly emerging
market economy.
5.
“Today, however, donkey shit doesn’t play this kind of a role,
does it? People take acid rain and the ozone hole instead
as clear signs of civilization. Which only
goes to show that the true definition of civilization, at any particular moment in time,
is pollution. And shame.”
6.
This,
however, proves to be only the first thought inspired by the encounter. In a few moments,
there is more to come.
7.
“It is strange, isn’t it? I mean we are a strange people,
aren’t we? We are all willing to die for this country, we are all willing to tie
bombs to our waists and blow ourselves up to smithereens, should we get convinced that our
country would indeed benefit from such an act.
8.
“Yet, none of us seems to be willing to live for the country, I mean really
live for the country. I don’t even think that many of us do understand what such a
concept, living for one’s country, a much nobler expression of patriotism than martyrdom can ever hope to be,
actually means. Well, let me demonstrate its meaning once and for all.”
9.
I
say this as I head back to where we have just passed by the donkey and where the trail of
shit extends before our eyes for a couple of
meters, more or less. Then I stop, take off my shirt, and with it I begin to clean the
donkey shit off the street.
10.
My
disciples immediately rush to find things, plastic bags, sheets of paper, anything, to
help me with. The only person who does the
same thing I have, that is, the only person to take off his shirt, which was quite
expensive-looking in this case, and use it to do the job, is none other than, you guessed
it, SOGO.
11.
“Blessed are the
repentant wherever they may be, whoever they may be.” I say as I look him in
the eyes and smile. This time he doesn’t look away and he smiles back.
12.
“All the people of the
world claim to love their countries,” I say to the crowd now completely busy
picking up every piece of garbage and shit off the street and throwing them in the nearest
container, basking in the cleansing, purifying glow of such a seemingly disgusting task,
“but very few know how to live for it. Our countries have
a greater need for our lives than our deaths. Can you understand this? Can you really
understand?”
13.
Well,
I rather doubt it. I really do. I know that most of us still don’t understand. I know that most of us will
probably never understand. Still, I have to believe, I need to believe so I can go on with
my mission, so that my sacrifice can be worthwhile, that there are enough of us out there
who do understand.
14.
After
I wash my hands in one of the local shops,
and as I proceed to continue with my plunge, I approach the diplomat and say: (The East-West Divide)
15.
“If the friendly manners of the East hide behind them much fear and suspicion, the ‘civilized’ manners
of the West are in no way different. We have seen that very clearly when the Westerners
came to our countries, and we have seen this even more clearly when we went to their
countries.
16.
“We all miss an important piece of the puzzle, don’t we? We all
still need to be cleansed somehow. We all still need to be prepared, each in his own particular way, for the final
coming-together.”
17.
And
one thing we all definitely need to be cleansed off is the terrible disease of measuring
things and events and people by percentages.
18.
For
in a world teeming with more than six billion polluting inhabitants, even the minutest of
percentages can hide behind it millions of yearning individuals who may not be so happy or
tame, who may not remain so powerless-silent-impotent for long.
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lust for salvation, Brother, as though it were a woman, and I - a man.
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