La casa che non esiste più

La dacia Muromcev, un tempo casa e poi museo dell’autore Venedikt Erofeev e premio Nobel Ivan Bunin, un vero e proprio centro culturale del distretto di Caricyno, luogo di serate letterarie, spettacoli teatrali e di riunioni per salvaguardare la città, una casa che da venti anni era stata dichiarata ufficialmente inesistente e che due mesi fa, nella notte dal 2 al 3 gennaio, era data alle fiamme, ora non esiste veramente più.


Ieri, domenica, all’alba la polizia e l’OMON – le forze speciali del Ministerio degli Interni russo – hanno invaso il giardino della dacia bruciata. Senza mostrare alcun documento d’autorizzazione agli abitanti della dacia e ai loro amici che continuavano a farne la guardia in giardino, hanno immediatamente isolato la casa con un cordone. Quelli che cercavano di difendere la casa con il proprio corpo – circa 50 persone – sono stati arrestati e consegnati alla polizia.

Ivan Mitin che dall’incendio di gennaio continuava a riportare notizie sul destino della dacia: http://vanmeetin.livejournal.com/

Alle otto di mattina i bulldozer hanno cominciato a demolire la casa. Un autobus pieno di lavoratori immigrati tagiki è stato trasferito sul posto. Era ovvio che erano lavoratori illegali che rischiavano di essere espulsi dalla Russia in qualsiasi momento. Il sindaco di Mosca non se l’è sentita di compromettere l’esito dell’azione con l’invio di lavoratori russi.












Secondo la legge russa chi abbia vissuto più di quindici anni nel proprio appartamento, non può essere sfrattato. Gli abitanti della dacia Muromcev vivevano qui dagli anni Trenta. Anche l’abitante più vecchio vi era addiritura nato. Inoltre, dal 2009 la dacia era candidata alla lista d’approvazione dei monumenti protetti e quindi, in attesa della sentenza di approvazione, doveva essere automaticamente protetta dalla demolizione. Ciò nonostante, il sindaco di Mosca Jurij Lužkov ne ha personalmente ordinato la demolizione. Nello Caricyno il prezzo dei beni immobili è recentemente aumentato in maniera esorbitante. “Vi paghiamo 500 rubli (circa 12 euro) di risarcimento” – per la sauna costruita dagli abitanti e riconosciuta dalle autorità come unica loro proprietà nello spazio della dacia – “e poi andatevene dove volete”, ha intimato il capo della polizia agli abitanti.






Qualunque cosa si trovi sotto le rovine dell’incendio di gennaio finisce inevitabilmente nelle mani dei tagiki. Questi o lo bruciano o lo portano al mercato delle pulci. Agli abitanti è severamente vietato superare il cordone per recuperare i loro averi. Secondo gli esperti, entro alcune settimane, dopo la fine del gelo, sarebbe stato possibile accertar se l’incendio di gennaio sia stato doloso. Ora sarà per sempre impossibile.



La maggior parte delle foto sopra è stata fatta da Igor Podgorny e Vladimir Astapkovič, fotografo dell’agenzia di stampa ITAR TASS. * Nelle ultime ore è stata anche caricata una serie di ulteriori foto nella rete russa.

• http://igorpodgorny.livejournal.com/119503.html
• http://igorpodgorny.livejournal.com/119792.html
• http://community.livejournal.com/photo_polygon/1460505.html
• http://dryutsky.livejournal.com/426280.html
• http://bujhm.livejournal.com/466203.html
• http://vanmeetin.livejournal.com/89564.html
• http://ybelov.livejournal.com/305969.html
• http://ybelov.livejournal.com/327954.html
• http://community.livejournal.com/5_radialnaya_3/

La prima relazione in inglese è stata pubblicata da Lena Lebedeva-Hooft, che ha anche aperto un “gruppo per il sostegno della causa” su Facebook. I presenti agli eventi e diversi blogger russi stanno inviando proteste in iscritto al Presidente Medvedev. Non perché siano convinti del proprio successo, ma perché sanno che non possono fare altrimenti:

“In Germania prima vennero per i comunisti, e io non parlai perché non ero un comunista. Quindi vennero per gli ebrei, e io non parlai perché non ero un ebreo. Quindi vennero per i sindacalisti, e io non parlai perché non ero un sindacalista. Quindi vennero per i cattolici, ed io non parlai perché ero un protestante. Quindi vennero per me, e a quel punto non rimaneva nessuno che potesse alzare la voce.” – Igor Podgorny cita il pastore luterano Martin Niemöller.



E Bell-ringer illustra la canzone di Veročka Dolina La mia casa sta volando con una serie delle immagini della dacia.

Мне что-то стало трудно дышать. Что-то со мною нужно решать. То ли это болезнь суеты, То ли это боязнь высоты. О, друзья мои, дышащие легко! Почему вы все время так далеко? Если мог чей-то дом над землей парить, Почему моему это не повторить? Припев: Никто не знает, что мой дом летает. В нём орущие дети и плачущий пёс. Никто не знает, что мой дом летает... О, только бы ветер далеко не унес!

Mi è in qualche modo difficile respirare dovrei risolvere qualcosa in me: è solo una malattia transitoria? o paura dell’altezza? Oh, amici miei che respirate facilmente! Perché siete sempre così lontani da me? Se gli altri costruirono le loro case sulla terra perché io non posso fare altrettanto? Nessuno sa che la mia casa sta volando con i bambini che gridano e un cane che piange nessuno sa che la mia casa sta volando… Oh, almeno il vento non la portasse lontano!

Tante grazie per la revisione del testo italiano a Francesca, padrona dell’affascinante blog Buchi nella sabbia.

La casa que ya no existe más

La Dacha Muromtsev, en otro tiempo hogar y luego museo del autor Venedikt Yerofeev y del ganador del Premio Nobel Ivan Bunin, un verdadero centro cultural del distrito Tsaritsino, escenario de veladas literarias, obras de teatro, lugar de reunión de grupos proteccionistas de las ciudad, una casa que fue oficialmente declarada inexistente hace veinte años y hace dos meses en la noche del 2 al 3 de enero, fue incendiada intencionalmente. La Dacha Muromtseva ahora sí que realmente ya no existe.


Hoy temprano por la mañana la policía y las OMON –unidades especiales del Ministerio del Interior de Rusia– invadieron el jardín de la incendiada Dacha Muromtsev. No exhibieron documento o autorización alguna a los habitantes de la dacha y sus amigos que hacían guardia en el jardín. Inmediatamente acordonaron la casa. Todos los habitantes y sus amigos, que interpusieron sus cuerpos para defender la dacha, fueron arrestados y llevados a la policía.

Ivan Mitin que desde el incendio intencional de enero ha estado cubriendo en este sitio el destino de la dacha: http://vanmeetin.livejournal.com/

A las 8 de la mañana las topadoras comenzaron a demoler la casa. Un autobús lleno de trabajadores temporales de Tadzhikistan fue enviado al lugar. Se negaban a ser fotografiados. Era obvio que eran trabajadores ilegales y que podían ser deportados de Rusia en cualquier momento. El alcalde de Moscú no quiso arriesgar el éxito de la operación enviando trabajadores rusos.












De acuerdo a la ley rusa, cualquiera que haya vivido por más de quince años en su propio departamento no puede ser desalojado. Los habitantes de la Dacha Muromtsev habían vivido ahí desde la década de 1930. Incluso el más viejo de los habitantes había nacido allí. Además, desde 2009 la dacha se estaba proponiendo para ser incluida en la lista de monumentos protegidos y por lo tanto quedar automáticamente resguardada de ser demolida. El alcalde de Moscú, Yuriy Luzhkov, ha ordenado personalmente su demolición. En Tsaritsino, el precio de las propiedades ha subido considerablemente en los últimos tiempos. “Les pagamos 500 rublos (unos 12 euros) de indemnización a ustedes” —para la sauna construida por los habitantes y sólo reconocida por las autoridades como de su propiedad—, “y vayan adonde Dios quiera”, ordenó el jefe de policía a los habitantes.






Todo lo encontrado bajo las ruinas del fuego de enero fue inmediatamente a las manos de los Taszhiks. Quienes o bien lo quemaron o lo llevaron al mercado de pulgas. A los habitantes se les prohibió terminantemente cruzar el cordón y recoger sus pertenencias. De acuerdo a algunos expertos, en unas semanas luego del final de las heladas hubiera sido posible determinar si el fuego de enero había sido intencional. Ahora ya será imposible saberlo.



Las fotos de aquí arriba fueron hechas en su mayoría por Igor Podgorny y Vladimir Astapkovich, fotógrafo de la agencia de noticias ITAR TASS. * En las últimas horas algunas otras series de fotos fueron subidas a la red en Rusia.

• http://igorpodgorny.livejournal.com/119503.html
• http://igorpodgorny.livejournal.com/119792.html
• http://community.livejournal.com/photo_polygon/1460505.html
• http://dryutsky.livejournal.com/426280.html
• http://bujhm.livejournal.com/466203.html
• http://vanmeetin.livejournal.com/89564.html
• http://ybelov.livejournal.com/305969.html
• http://ybelov.livejournal.com/327954.html
• http://community.livejournal.com/5_radialnaya_3/

El primer reporte en inglés fue publicado por Lena Lebedeva-Hooft, quien también ha abierto un “cause group” en el Facebook. Aquellos presentes en los acontecimientos y varios bloggers rusos han enviado protestas escritas al presidente Medvedev. No porque confiaran de verdad en él, sino porque sabían que no podían hacer nada más:

“Cuando los nazis vinieron a buscar a los comunistas, guardé silencio, porque yo no era comunista. Cuando encarcelaron a los socialdemócratas, guardé silencio, porque me metieron un pito en la boca, Cuando vinieron a buscar a los sindicalistas, no protesté, porque yo no era sindicalista, Cuando vinieron a buscar a los judíos, no protesté, porque yo no era judío, Cuando vinieron a buscarme, no había nadie más que pudiera protestar.” – cita Igor Podgorny al pastor luterano Martin Niemöller.



Y Bell-ringer ilustra la canción de Verochka Dolina Mi casa está volando con una serie de imágenes de la dacha.

Мне что-то стало трудно дышать. Что-то со мною нужно решать. То ли это болезнь суеты, То ли это боязнь высоты. О, друзья мои, дышащие легко! Почему вы все время так далеко? Если мог чей-то дом над землей парить, Почему моему это не повторить? Припев: Никто не знает, что мой дом летает. В нём орущие дети и плачущий пёс. Никто не знает, что мой дом летает... О, только бы ветер далеко не унес!

Es tan difícil respirar Debo decidir algo por mí misma: ¿es sólo una enfermedad transitoria o un temor a la altura? ¡Oh, amigos, que respiráis con facilidad, ¿por qué estáis siempre tan lejos de mí? Si otros costruyen sus casas en la tierra ¿por qué no puedo hacer yo lo mismo? Nadie sabe que mi casa está volando con niños gritando y un perro llorando, nadie sabe que mi casa está volando… ¡Ojalá que el viento no la lleve lejos!

Spring breeze water spreads

As in every year, the Chinese embassy of Budapest has organized the Lunar New Year celebrations for the Chinese elite in Hungary. The program was similar to the previous years. As always, the amateur dance group, choir and band of the Chinese living in Budapest came to stage, and the highlight of the evening, as usual, were the dozen of artists – actors, singers, illusionist, shadow player, acrobat – invited directly from Beijing.


However, in this year the celebrations had some unusual elements as well.

First of all, the festival was not organized in a second rate theater near to the Chinese Embassy or in a Chinese neighborhood like for example the Stefania Palace last year. But in an institution which is regarded as a top class concert hall also by the most refined Hungarian public: the Palace of Arts.

The leaflet of the album was printed for the first time in two languages, also in Hungarian besides the Chinese original, although we hardly saw one or two Hungarians among the public.

In addition, the Beijing guests too were of higher caliber than in the previous years, including singer Dong Wenhua 董文华, singer-actor Cai Guoqing 菜国庆 and singer-actress Yang Jiuhong 杨九红 (here to the left) among others. Their popularity was well measured by the applause greeting them.

As always, each singer’s repertoire included a patriotic song: My China, My Chinese heart, My homeland, My homeland and me. However, at the same time each of them emphasized in their salutatory speeches how beautiful city Budapest was, how happy they were to be here and how much they would like to return to Hungary on a future occasion. This was something new, as until the last year the greetings of the guests addressed only the local Chinese community.

The Chinese-Hungarian friendship was also a central theme of the official welcome speeches delivered by the Ambassador as well as by the representatives of the local Chinese economic elite.

Everything has pointed to China’s having officially announced a policy of opening and cultural rapprochement in the Year of the Tiger, transcending the earlier isolation of the local Chinese community. And this is something very promising to Hungary as well.

The opening piece of the program conveyed this message in a spectacular and emblematic form. An odd band lined up on the stage: a contrabass, a dulcimer, a violin and a saxophone encircled the two most aristocratic instruments of classical Chinese music, guzheng and pipa, Chinese zither and lute. The musicians started some peculiar but nevertheless somehow familiar Eastern pentatonic tune, and after the introduction the Chinese female vocalist sang the Hungarian folk song A csitári hegyek alatt (Under the mountains of Csitár) – in an exceptionally great voice and with an almost perfect Hungarian accent. Then the band played some fantastic world music – a genre rarely heard of Chinese musicians –, including French chansons with pipa solos, and at the end they sang another, very popular Hungarian folk song, Tavaszi szél vizet áraszt (Spring breeze water spreads) in a traditional Chinese arrangement.

I will by all means try to have a copy of the video from the Embassy and to publish it here. Until then let me insert three versions of the “spring breeze spreading water”. The first is the one sung in Hungarian as a surprise song by Freddie Mercury on the Budapest concert of Queen in 1986 (when this song also had some revolutionary overtones in Hungary). The second is the same song performed a capella by the Vietnamese girl pop group Năm Dòng Kẻ on a recent concert in Budapest. And the third is the poem Spring water spreading written by the Tang period poet Du Fu (712-759), a contemporary of Wang Wei, which also has the impression of a folk song. We translated it now for the first time for the Hungarian readers.

Tavaszi szél vizet áraszt virágom, virágom minden madár társat választ virágom, virágom. Hát én immár kit válasszak virágom, virágom te engemet, én tégedet virágom, virágom.

Spring breeze water spreads my flower, my flower every bird is choosing a mate my flower, my flower. Oh who I am going to choose my flower, my flower I will choose you, you will choose me my flower, my flower.

春水生 一夜水高二尺強， 數日不可更禁當。 南市津頭有船賣， 無錢即買系籬旁。 chūn shuĭ shēng yī yè shuĭ gāo èr chĭ qiáng shù rì bù kĕ gèng jìn dāng nán shì jīn tóu yŏu chuán mài wú qián jí măi jì lí páng spring water spreading in one night the water has risen two feet some more days and the river will flood boats are for sale at the southern harbor with no money how shall I link one to my gate?

Update:

Some hours after the publication of the Hungarian version of this post our readers sent us two very apposite Lunar New Year’s gift. Két Sheng has called our attention to the spring advertisement of the internet provider T-Home with Freddie Mercury sending his message from the already eternal spring, where his fans can sing together with him the Tavaszi szél vizet áraszt on their own home videos uploaded to the company’s site.


On the other, much more touching amateur video some former Vietnamese students – who at the time of Communism studied in a great number in Hungary – sing in Vietnamese the Hungarian folk song A csitári hegyek alatt, the opening song of the recent Chinese Lunar Year’s celebrations. Although the video was probably made not long ago, the faces, clothes, gestures and homes recall Hungary of the 70’s when those students most probably learned and translated the song. A veritable time travel.



I remember, Péter told me that in Vietnam of the 80’s the most popular book had been the Hungarian historical novel Egri csillagok (Stars of Eger, also translated as Eclipse of the Crescent Moon), describing how in 1552 two thousand Hungarian heroes defended the fortress of Eger against the Turkish army of 200 thousand. The Vietnamese children played war in the person of the novel’s brave Hungarian soldiers István Dobó and Gergely Bornemissza. The Vietnamese read the history of the heroes of Eger overcoming the superior number as an epic poem about their own heroic persistence in the war against America.

This video has been also uploaded to the Vietnamese forum “Vietnamese soldiers in Hungary” (bearing a Hungarian title!) where people also translate poems of sublime Hungarian poet Attila József, nostalgically listen to videos of Pál Szécsi, popular singer of the 70’s, and in their signatures use slogans like “When I came home, my heart was left forever in Budapest.” A more beautiful Lunar New Year’s gift than this we could have not even imagined to ourselves.

Flowers from (for) Chile

The day after posting my previous entry on Poemas del Río Wang we woke to the news of the devastating earthquake in Chile.


May the example of firmness and perseverance in adversity of that little flower be transmitted to the whole neighboring country!


Let these splendid flowers that we admired in our recent trip to Chile serve as a symbol of our affection, solidarity and support in these difficult times.

Flores de (para) Chile

Al día siguiente de publicar mi anterior entrada en Poemas del Río Wang, nos despertamos con la noticia del devastador terremoto en Chile.


Ojalá que el ejemplo de firmeza y perseverancia ante la adversidad de aquella florcita se transmita al pueblo vecino.


Que estas otras flores, de las tantas preciosísimas que admiramos en nuestro primer viaje a Chile, sirvan como símbolo de nuestro cariño, solidaridad y respaldo en estos tiempos difíciles.

Digitus impudicus

We have been recently invited as guest authors to the popular Hungarian blog of Latinitas “Laudator temporis acti”, “a praiser of times past” (no, not that Laudator!) where we started our career with the Hungarian version of our recent Lucus a non lucendo. Our second guest post, published this morning, was inspired by the latest post of our friend Poly Hatjimanolaki.

Poly has just published the title page of the recent edition of the German journal Focus representing the Venus of Milo wrapped into the Greek flag and making an unambiguous gesture. “Tricksters in the euro family” announces the title, referring to the Greek budget scandal, and the article offers a simple key to the German readers to effortlessly interpret the situation: “The Greeks have nicely established their lives in the triangle of black work, tax fraud and fakelaki [slush-money]. It is obvious that bribery, corruption and tax evasion is in their blood.” The analysis of these stereotypes going back as far as cunning Ulysses is illustrated by Poly with various “modified” versions of a visual stereotype of Greece, the Venus of Milo.

Gino Boccasile: A Fascist propaganda stamp representing an American soldier dragging away the Venus of Milo, and the same stamp pasted on an envelope in Northern Italy occupied by the Germans, 1944

In a great part of these illustrations the source of humor is that the ancient marble torso is being complemented with an obviously modern supplement: a hook, an electric guitar, a tennis racket. However, the title page of Focus is a cuckoo’s egg in this series. For the gesture of the middle finger raised is not more modern but rather much more ancient than the statue, and we could easily find it not on a classical statue, but on an ancient Priapus idol or a Pompeii graffiti.

The Internet is flooded by an etymology tracing back the “middle finger salute” to the Angincourt battle of 1415 where the contemptuous French threatened the famous English longbow archers to cut off their middle fingers drawing the bow (as the Spartans in fact did to the captured Athenians according to Thucydides). But the battle, as it is well known, brought a crushing victory of the English, and the archers triumphantly displayed to the French captives their middle fingers which still “pluck yew”, can draw the bows typically made of yew tree. In time the initial “pl” was distorted into “f”, and consequently “yew” also got a different orthography and the gesture a different interpretation.

Various urban legend sites never tire to oppose this myth and to insist on the ancient origins of the gesture of the “digitus impudicus” (impudent finger) or “digitus infamis” (infamous finger). Some quote Martial as an evidence, others Suetonius or Aristophanes. We, however, instead of extracting all these texts only make one single elegant reference to the source which already five hundred years ago collected all of them and more, but has never been quoted in this debate. We speak of Erasmus’ Adagia, the monumental collection of ancient proverbs complemented with quotations and commentaries.

Adagia 2.4.68. Medium ostendere digitum. Medio item digito porrecto, supremum contemptum significabant. Martialis lib. 2: Et digitum porrigito medium. Nam hunc digitum Martialis impudicum vocat: Ostendit digitum, sed impudicum. Persius infamem: Infami digito & lustralibus ante salivis. Huc arbitror pertinere, quod apud Laërtium Diogenes, ut alibi diximus, hospitibus quibusdam Demosthenem videre cupientibus, non indice digito, sed medio porrecto demonstravit, parum virum innuens & effoeminatum. Ac paulo post, eodem in loco, satis indicat porrectione digiti medii quippiam obscoenum significari, cum ait, insanos haberi, qui medium porrigant digitum, qui indicem, non item. Itaque eodem in carmine duobus adagiis extremum contemptum indicavit Satyricus: Mandaret laqueum, mediumque ostenderet unguem. Elegantius fiet utrumque, si longius detorqueatur. Ut Philosophicis praeceptis laqueum mandes, tu tuo vivito more. Et Theologorum decretis negociatores medium unguem ostendunt, id est, plane contemnunt ridentque.

Adagia 2.4.68. Pointing with the middle finger. The raised middle finger was the sign of the greatest contempt by the ancients. Martial, Book 2. [Ep. 2.28]: Show him your middle finger. The same finger is called “shameless” by Martial [Ep. 6.70]: He shows his finger, but the shameless one. And “infamous” by Persius [Sat. 2.33]: …she hallows him with her infamous finger and with saliva [i.e. the Roman grandmother her newborn grandson, against the evil eye]. In my opinion here belongs what we read in Diogenes Laertius: that when someone was asked by foreigners about Demosthenes, he pointed at him not with the forefinger but with the middle finger, as if indicating that he regards him a villainous and effeminate person. The same author somewhat below suggests that the raised middle finger means something indecent, because he calls fools those pointing with the middle finger, in contrast to those who point with the forefinger. And the Master of Satires [Juvenal, Sat. 10.53] quotes two adages in one verse to represent contemption: [Democritus to the Fortune threatening him] wished rope and showed his middle finger. Both adages are more elegant when inserted in a longer phrase, for example: Wish rope to the precepts of the philosophers, you just live your way. Or: The merchants show their middle fingers to the prescriptions of the theologians, that is, they completely contempt and ridicule them.

In adage 3.3.87. Ἐσκιμαλίχθαι Erasmus also treats the Greek occurrences of the gesture in Aristophanes and Suda, and dedicates a whole adage with number 2.4.67 to the idiom “wishing rope to someone”. Whoever is curious of them can find them all in the Adagia’s CD edition by Studiolum.

The examples of Erasmus were primarily taken from classical literature where the gesture was used to express contempt, just like today. But as it is indicated by the verse of Persius, it was originally used in an apotropaic function, as a protection against the evil eye, like every other phallic symbol. Such representations, as they are displayed on plates IX, X and XI of Thomas Wright’s The worship of generative powers (1865) were equally worn on amulets, coins, in the neck or on fibulae. And if in an emergency none of these were at hand, then people displayed them at least with the hand: with the thumb passed through the index and middle fingers (which already at that time was called a “fig”) or with the “digitus impudicus” raised. As the Venus of Milo does it on the title page of Focus. German readers thus should not be offended, for the gesture is not the sign of any contempt of “the euro family”, but rather an ancient apotropaic symbol justified by the present situation of Greek economy.

At the same time we have to agree with Takis Theodoropoulos, from whose book Το αριστερό χέρι της Αφροδίτης, Aphrodite’s left hand (2008) Poly quotes this very apposite phrase:

The hand is an erotic accessory. A female hand without charm, an ugly finger can upset the harmony of the properties of even the most beautiful person.

As it is illustrated on the title page of this Focus.