That day ended that escape from the chaos of the city.
Morning at the lake and afternoon at the amusement park.
It seemed like we were back in the 80s and 2018 seemed finally to be the ideal place to plan a pleasant day in the open air with your family.
Appearances are deceiving and expectations are often disappointed.
It is not the places that fail but the people who populate them.
Contrasting feelings gave that day.
Sitting on that bench for 20 minutes without talking, with the reflection of the sky in a golden lake and the laughter of the children in the background makes you understand how often the most beautiful things in the world are free.
I see people on bikes but some of them are wearing masks. Their masked faces make me sad, not for them but for us who have reduced our land to a tumor body instead of a celestial one. We are the metastases that invade our cradle and we do not realize it.
Beyond the lake you can see snow-capped mountains, but all you have to do is take a pair of binoculars and look to your right to find rivers of smoke rising from the nearby factories that produce luxury goods that nobody needs.
A sublime contrast in its raw ruthlessness.
I enjoy this day but as always the fear of happiness assails every cell of my body.
How to feel happy knowing that maybe one day those children will be able to admire the beauty of this place and at the same time to see themselves surrounded by young people lying on the lawn, scrolling through their facebook pages instead of looking into the eyes of their loved ones in search of a sparkle that could change their lives?
Trivial thoughts, of an exacerbating but disturbing banality, even on a beautiful winter day but full of sunshine and laughter like this one.
In the afternoon we move towards the amusement park. An amusement park reminiscent of Coney Island, reminiscent of the backgrounds to Elliot's delusions in Mr. Robot. In the car we listen to some music, the rock one, the beautiful one, the one that talked about problems of the soul and of society, transmitting the desire to escape and at the same time face those situations head-on.
Children must be educated about this today, teaching music is also a way to teach them life.
The amusement park gives off color and fantasy and the children squint at the sight while hand in hand they accompany each other at the entrance.
A fun but not fun anymore. As a child I spent at least a couple of days a year in these places and the owners of the various attractions joked, talked, winked and created atmosphere.
Today I see little boys at the entrances with yellow bibs tearing tickets with death in their eyes and a smile more fake than the bib they wear.
There aren't so many people to welcome us at the rides anymore, just enough to get you in and out. The children have fun but the atmosphere is gone. Large electronic panels indicate the exit routes, toilets and main attractions.
The taste of waiting is mixed with the bland taste of the clean and tidy streets of an island that is not there.
Finally we arrive at the Ferris wheel. A carriage of 6 to fill to get on.
There are only 4 of us and we stay in line waiting for the little shrimp on duty to complete the carriage.
Once the children were afraid of the black man.
Today it is men who are afraid of the black man.
We wait for the next thank you.
I listen to these 4 whispered words from a young mother to the little shrimp next to us.
She looks at us with contempt and with her hands she protects her little girl from who knows what.
We struggle to find 2 people to complete our carriage.
When on our trip to Sudan 10 years ago we decided that we would not have children but we would adopt them when we were ready, we did not imagine that we would go to the most hidden and narrow-minded ignorance of people.
We thought it would be difficult for our children, torn from their land, to get used to the West.
We did not imagine that it would be difficult for the West to get used to 2 children with different skin colors during a Sunday afternoon at the amusement park.
Let's help them at home
In the transcendental meditation of the West this is the most frequent mantra.
We have done it.
We went to pick up Sasha and Ryan at their house. We gave them a home. We gave them an education. We gave them affection. We gave them a future.
Sasha and Ryan were orphans, survivors of a war that had taken away their home, parents and little friends.
Far from the war but close to a more subtle, devious, everyday hatred.
Will we be able to be their screen in front of this rain of ignorance?
Will it be enough? Will we be enough? Will it do any good?
Will it be enough to build a plan to escape from reality?
Escaping from such a bleak reality would be the right choice or should we
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