I've never ever actually seen a creature die, but last night a streetcat was in extreme pain and we stayed with 4 guys around him untill death took us part. It made me think about the performance, and that's a good sign (concerning my wish for tapping this topic)
It's morning and we have some time to buy typical presents for the ones we love. I know that when I bring one of these souvenirs home they will be taken gledly, and will be seen as something special, but I see thousands of shisa's, scarfs and soaps and I refuse to take time to enjoy their differences. Mainly because on top of that, the salesman are asking the same question over and over: where you come from? In the end I can only find pleasure in making up some Skandinavian language to answer them, and by acknowledging how beautyfull their products actually are...
We (Robin and me) finally notice a very small allay where the too skinny dressed groups doesn't show much interest in. We find a Palestinien who sells herbs and spices who tells us in correct English that his family runs this small store for centuries, something our 'HEMA' can't even compete with.
He gives us 7 bags of the most local grown ones and writes on the plastic what to use them for.
If I want to give him more Sjekels then agreed he won't take it.
I'm beginning to recognise some people walking in the market and it feels kind of cool to shake hands with the locals. I check if the other tourists see me shaking this but their eyes are focussed on colourfull parfums. Bummer. Still I love to read the eyes of the locals we get to know from the performances, because they show happyness and gratitude. At these moments I forget to check if my wallet is still their.
I hear Dutch, my language. He tells his wife to watch her wallet, and I tell her that it's probably more safe in this souk then in The Netherlands.
The boys we just shaked hands with show us the place to buy arabic coffee. He speaks to the man to be sure he gives us the local price. Yes, some tourists notice the agreement, and I feel less a tourist.
He looks as if he doesn't remember shooting it for quite some time now, but his expression changes when he notice my attention.
Nobody including the veteran looks interested in the gun, and if I want to make a picture of him he doesnt get angry enough to aim the toi at me... too late, I shot first.
Not even 100 meters further these boys were playing with much more realistic looking toys (sometimes you can not even tell the difference), but when I shoot my camera the leader does't give up that easely and starts unlaoding his fantasy at my bulletproof t'shirt. I decite to not play the game.
Fortunately the souk also has other toi's in the market, and so I started making pictures from these creepy creatures who are dying to be unwrapped.
Without any real damage but dying of first I finally reach my hostel. When I enter the room I see a girl who looks very happy with her new pink tank that doesn't seem to have a real destination,
but is bumping into some happy feet... their Rosalie's.
She bought the innocent looking vehicle for just 25 Sjekel. The overjoyed duo also awakes Robin's enthousiasm to buy it, but this time for not less then 40 Sjekel.
Panicking as a real control freak I started creating a soloperformance, in case Mohammed won't show up on time. I'm happy and disappointed at the same time when he walkes in carelessly and greats me with a hug.
"Kill your darlins and start working together" I thouth, and as promissed (to myself) I am carefull to give him at least equal space. Space to come up with ideas and decissions. But it seems that we are still working in the same frequency. So we take time to be silent and enjoy the wonderfull view of Jerusalem with clouds that quickly change colours to eventually enter in darkness, and give us the the space to express our insecurities about being dead.
DAY 16 - going back
In a rush I pack my bags and throw -with five seconds of doubt- my collected statue stones in a container. It's sunday and the only thing to do is clean the location and catch a plane, and cause of all the impressions last two weeks, there's not much more my body will let me do.
during eating a fantastic salad this palestinien girl just pass by and tells us -with a smile on her face- that she fights for expressing her oppinnion and that she was 4 months in jail. I'm not surprised cause I've heard worse stories around here but this is the first direct one. Suddenly I can imagine that if your life doesn't change cause of politics or other religions, it's possible you won't fight for something 'better'.
After Tel Aviv's extreme controle checks and a pleasant take off I realize they didn't check two 100ml bottles of parfume in my handluggage!. And that's after I bought a can of beer and I asked if I could take it in the plane, but eventually couldn't. The lady escordet me personally to wrap my beer in plastic together with some herbs that also magicly passed three checkpoints, to put it with the normal luggage...
Maybe I should suddenly start spraying everybody in the plane to spredd some positive terror.
2 hours of writing plus two hours of sleep later the 33m metal bird agressively splits the air above the first signs of live in Belgium, when the windows seperate the outside from the romantic and peacefull experience inside the plain. The closer we reach solid materials the less romantic my thoughts become. For a second I believe we will crash or at least have a very rough landing but before I know it the wheels run smoothly across the runway. Just like my experiences in Jerusalem.
from left to right: Nina Willems, Rosalie Wammes, Robin Coops, Nick Steur (me)
want to react or see more info about me and my performancework? www.nicksteur.com
