lunedì 8 aprile 2013

Guerrilla Gardening and Authority

"Oh, I forgot to tell you I am now part of an organisation...Well, I am actually its only member in Trieste...It's called guerrilla gardening." my dad went the other day. I didn't know whether to take him seriously or not, but experience has taught me that when my parents come up with something twisted...it is probably true!

Funny as it may sound, the organisation does exist. It's basically a group of people who want to keep green areas clean and tidy. In order to act undisturbed they often meet in the middle of the night and plant flowers, water plants, fertilise the soil...Their guidelines state that the members of the organisation should limit the use of cars as much as possible (in order to be as inconspicuous as possible) and even educate an older member to carry on with "maintenance work" i.e. to make sure that a specific green area is kept tidy after the action of the guerrilla warriors. I can't help picturing an old guy with a walking stick in one hand and a watering can in the other, looking out for possible enemies approaching and thinking: "Re-vo-lu-ciòn! Hasta la victoria!" :)))

My dad is now one of these guys. He's always been a countryside lad. Someone who loves being in the open air and who spends most of the year with a spade in his hands. Someone who knows that courgettes don't naturally grow in February and who expects his daughter to tell an oak tree from a birch and a willow from an ash tree (although I am not a very practical person, I swear I can do it!). Now, in his early sixties, he decided he needs to spice up his life and become subversive. Result: the other day he almost got shot in the head by a hunter who was alarmed by my dad's suspicious behavior (i.e. clearing a path no one had walk on for the last 25 years or so). 



I may not like the idea of my dad dying "on the battlefield" but I am proud of people who care about the world around them, starting from their own gardens and the paths they walk on every day. I also think that a healthy dose of disobedience is what we need to feel alive. I am the kind of person who might come across as fearful, but I am actually not. I am just someone who likes observing people before deciding whether they are my cup of tea or not. I am also someone who is not ready to show undue respect or be nice to someone just because "s/he is the boss". Unfortunately we are not all equal, I know that for a fact, but I am not going to suck up to anyone because it's just lame! I think you get much more from life if you stick to the people you like (and I am lucky to know many!) and simply put up with the ones you don't like that much. Without letting them stamping on you. 

To conclude, here's a poem  I heard in an interview with Roberto Saviano the other day:

I’m not afraid
they’ll stamp me flat.
Grass stamped flat
soon becomes a path.

(By Blaga Dimitrova)



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