June 25, 2023: an account of 36 years old of a Very Lucky Curious, and Failed Person
Sunday, June 25th was the birthday of the Wondering Wandering Writer! Not too many people wished me happy birthday, I am not a lovely person and some people hate me because I am not a useful friend or lover: I have too many flaws and few qualities Afterall, I am a grateful person, so I must always remember that I had the privilege to have a very good father and a mother who didn't kill me when I was young, even if even though I was asking a lot of questions and eating a lot of chocolate, which made me fleshed out and even uglier than I already was. Another virtue I have is perseverance: despite being born into a poor family, I have always had the determination to fill my ignorance, aided by my curiosity, which I am trying to pass on to my daughters. Yes, in spite of being the ugliest female human being on the planet, I managed to give birth to two beautiful little girls, even though I was not loved by their father and the latter eventually managed to leave me, performing an act that left considerable consequences in my soul.
I am also a fortunate person to have been born in a city like Turin and to have had the opportunity to study literature at the university because I have loved reading since I was a child, and because I was able to participate in an Erasmus program, to do a year of national civil service promoting the value of this activity in places not conventionally used for it, and a European project in Romania, where I had the opportunity to get in touch with extraordinary local people, but also people from Bulgaria, Armenia, Catalunya, and France. After this project, I would have liked to write and follow volunteers in other projects in order to develop more knowledge of different European countries, but without forgetting the other continents, especially the African continent, and do some projects that could focus on some countries from both continents, but I am not as good as Giada Martin, so I just devotionally do my job as a laundry worker and mother and continue to educate myself and satisfy my curiosity, hoping that this knowledge will form a stepping stone for my daughters, Chikaima Maitea and Chimamanda Lavinia.
That is why I took them, on Sunday, June 25, to Mosob Restaurant, an Eritrean restaurant in downtown Glasgow. It was a really exciting experience, with a huge variety of foods also for people who follo a vegetarian and a vegan diet. The only issue I would said is the unaccessiibilyt for people in a wheelchair due to a high stairs: when lunch was over, the waitress help me to bring it down the pram without the girls on, but i am afraid that it should not be possible with adults.
In the past I had several friends from Eritrea, but unfortunately, they no longer wanted to have anything to do with me, so by going to this restaurant I rediscovered some of the flavors and atmospheres I felt when I was in their company. The waitress who accompanied us to the table and brought us what we ordered told me that Mosob is the wicker basket with which Injera was transported, which you can see in the photos in this article.
I read during this first part of 2023 some poems by Reesom Haile, whose entire literary output Roberta Thokozile Martucci Schiavi has known for years while I discovered him only at 35. In the introduction to the book written by Charles Cantalupo, the poet himself states that "Our poetry is participatory. When I recite my poetry at home, the people listening to me will say, 'add this to that, ass this to that.' And I really like this feature, I find that sharing reading as much as writing a poem is a precious gift, as much as having the good fortune to share a meal with someone. Throughtout Reesom Haile's poetry there are at least two constants:
1. HIS POETRY POSSESSES A POLITICAL SENSE
2. HIS MUSIC, IN TIGRINYA AND IN ENGLISH.
Great poetry should always carry with it, in its original language or translation, a universal music.
For this reason, I would like to share with my 83 readers my favorite poem of this brilliant author:
FIRST THE EARTH, THEN THE PLOW:
SO KNOWLEDGE COMES OUT OF KNOWLEDGE.
WE KNOW, WE DON'T KNOW
WE DON'T KNOW WE KNOW
THIS LOOKS LIKE THAT -
THIS LEMON, THAT ORANGE -
UNTIL WE TASTE THE BITTER.
For my future, I need to be aware that I am lucky to have a job, two amazing daughters, and continue to cultivate my passion for reading. I wished to be a writer or a librarian, but I don't have enough skills to do it. It is so true the Eritrean proverb I've found in a chapter of the book "I didn't do it for you" written by Michela Wrong: when dreams are shattered, they itch like scabies on the buttocks, even if also another Eritrean proverb is true: when spider webs unite, they can tie up a lion.
But who will want to work together with a failure and ugly woman like me? As the igbo proverb said: the lizard that jumped from the iroko tree to the ground said he would praise himself if no one else did.
So, Happy belated birthday, Scrivente ERRANTE!