BARI - Perhaps it would be nice to start listening to stories, the narratives of individuals in the flesh. Those who move in the niches of history, those forced to live in the margins left out of official history. The gray areas, the darkest, where people have to sacrifice any residue of its own essence in order to preserve its existence. Perhaps, listening to those stories that stimulate the imagination narrative leads us to change our point of view, or at least to relativize, to compare it with the changed conditions, scenarios overturned, disfigured by the logic of our development, that irretrievably slips in its otherwise. We find ourselves drawn into grim labyrinth, where the search for meaning becomes desperate to leave to leave the abyss of despair, irrationality of despair. What makes us lose the reason for every action, for which we can no longer grasp the meaning of objects, facts, events. It falls into a world that is no longer ours, and that requires us to wars, hunger, cold, immersing ourselves in foreign relations, incomprehensible. Yet, the mere fact of being there, makes that world a continuation of those forced to live, to find in it the object of their own needs or the gate for an escape route. To hope for a new world where they can experience the humanity in each individual, in which every stimulus, every feeling, the whole of life, not lose nell'estenuante race for survival. It 's the same race that had taken fifty young Somalis who these days are fighting for a place to sleep, but because that life is not them taken away again. They are strange days, those who are living with the occupation of Ferrhotel in Bari A new feeling is animating their desire to do. This time they are not alone, and are the protagonists. Individuals and groups, gathered around the anti-racist network, are there for them, are working for them. It means that value is denied to their life, for months of hunger and cold, someone has to make sense. And, perhaps as early as the demonstration in Rome, October 17, something was changing in their minds. All those people, the will to fight for them, with them. There were no barriers or crooked faces. There were so many people of different backgrounds together by the same means to oppose racism and politics than the legitimate one. To challenge a country that feeds the sacrifice of life, just to give an object to their needs to their fears. It was never hard to find enemies close to us, to materialize the economic and financial unrest. Just different, the unfamiliar, to embody the traits of the Other, who has our own humanity, of course, but impure. Dirty, thieving, bad, bad. No one disputes that are people, human beings, of course. So when we talk about racism all seem surprised. But it's still another "type" in person. And this is enough to make it the reason of all evil, of every danger, every crisis. Even the economic analysis, that both are valid in the current system, lose their importance to the danger of the stranger, who hides behind the gray nature of their black skin. In Rome, however, that Saturday, everything was so spontaneous that it seems almost strange. Each of those people have a dignity to someone. The men, originally from far away, there in the parade, they were still worthy of being discovered, in their unique traits, the universe of experiences and stimuli that are the stuff of every person. They were in Rome that day, many of the children who would occupy the next day Ferrhotel. And these days continue to repeat to be happy. They have beds, a closed place to sleep and shelter from the cold, after months on the road. One of them tells us that seven months was forced to sleep on the benches. Very few know Italian, and this I say almost with regret. It 'was the biggest obstacle, in fact, seeking a job. They have gone to war and famine in their country, in pursuit of salvation. They walked miles of fear and hope, even to look for other human beings, who understood the pain of those forced to live on a fine line, between survival and death. There are some traits constitutive and accomunanti that enable man to identify himself in the situation of another man. But this fundamental capacity will remain closed in the dominant paradigm patterns. It 'much easier to be dependent on conditions which are already structured to venture into risky ambiguity of choice. So there is no room for imagination, for empathy. These foreigners have come here, and they are responsible for the thefts, dell'imbarbarimento costumes, the rapes, the reduction of jobs. That is why the underground is a crime, and immigrants should be punished with violence in the centers of identification and deportation, concentration camps today. Already last July, the president of the Somali community, Abdi Mohammed Nasir, was attacked by a bus driver for the local bus n.1 dell'Amtab, il quale non voleva farlo salire sul mezzo. Hanno girato per agenzie, industrie, supermercati, cantieri, alla ricerca di un posto di lavoro. La domanda era sempre la stessa, "conoscete l'italiano?" e alla risposta negativa seguiva il rifiuto. Al Ferrhotel manca la luce, ora anche l'acqua. Resta l'entusiasmo di stare insieme, di sentirsi finalmente compartecipi e protagonisti di qualcosa. Il Ferrhotel, uno stabile abbandonato di proprietà delle ferrovie, costituisce oggi l'unico mondo in cui ognuno di quei giovani somali avrebbe voluto vivere. Un mondo in cui ciascuno viene considerato come un fine in sé, con le sue gioie, le sue passioni. Il Ferrhotel ci aiuta a vivere il sapore della diversità. Quella ricca, indispensabile. Where everything seems to be forgotten, is starting a new story. That each of us.
Giacomo Pisani (LineaCinque)
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