Poetry Sans Frontiers Season 3 - Ep. 1- Family

Of course, we can't do without poetry. But then life without poetry would be nothing but nature without beauty. History without romance. Spring arriving without any signs of hope. Summertime gone too soon. Nostalgia with no memory. And words with no significance. How then, under such circumstances, could two hearts thousands of miles apart beat as one? Wanderers yearn for home even when they are far away. The melody of home still echoes in their ears. When notes from a jade flute whisper like spring zephyrs, home becomes the eternal theme of their tunes. The image of home still unfolds before their eyes even as they sit in a foreign courtyard, gazing at ancient stars. Wherever they are, the presence of home forever graces their hearts. Just as migrating birds sweep across the sky and blossoms awaken from their slumber, you're bound to find yourself home once more. Last night, we blew up the windows and ran away. But that night, the guards of the illegal prisons shot bullets and many people died that very same night. There are many things I want to get out of this. There are too many things going on in these roads. I've seen people die in front of me. The youth, to take these people out of the roads, it's because of poverty that they isolate themselves. They don't consider me. That's why I took the roads of Italy. In 2016, I left Senegal on September 21st, 2016. We left Dakar, we went through Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, to Agadez, to go to Libya to enter Italy. And then we arrived in Mali. So there, you find hundreds of young Africans who are there to prepare for the journey. There, the young people sleep in the garage to wait for the day of their departure, because it's a scheduled day. So the buses that take 60 seats, we put almost 70 to 80 seats. It was also tight on the road. And then in the borders too, there are police stations, whether they're military, gendarmes, or the police, they are in the borders. They also catch people there to ask them for money. Who has something to give, they let you go. Who doesn't have something to give, they let you go. And then the bus had more than 70 people, but even before we were in Niger, we were less than 40 people. So the others, they are lost on the road. We don't know if they are alive or dead. At that moment, we laugh at them. The desert reminds me of a lot of things. Because I took the desert from Niger to Agadez, and then I went through Dirkou to Libya. I saw there, I saw bodies of twins everywhere in the desert. We also had people who fell ill and died in our containers. Because people were thirsty, hungry. Also with the torture of the passers-by. So it was horrible. I asked for help to have security, to have peace and total success on my project. And then I prayed for the migrants who fell, died in the desert, in the Mediterranean seas, so that God forgives them and brings them back. Amen. And then the passers-by, they take your money, you pay up to the limit. They put you in cars, they have to take you to Tripoli, so that you can get in the trucks to go to Nicaragua. But when they take your money, they don't pay everything, because they are passers-by. They take all your money, and they pay a part of it, to make you believe that they paid everything, up to Dirkou. They will leave you there. And then from there, you will be tired, you will suffer, because you don't have anyone to help you. It will be a struggle. Sometimes you find pregnant women in the middle of the road, or the passers-by make them prostitutes, so that they can have money to continue their journey. There are even some who stay for months, so that their parents can have money, so that they can continue their journey. There are some who have been gone for more than six years, and they can't come back, and they don't have money to continue their journey, so they are stuck there. My friend died in the middle of the desert. He fell ill, very ill. We Senegalese supported him, but God made him lose his life. We threw him in the desert, and we continued our journey. And before he lost his life, he told me, Maho, if you can go back, because this road, with the danger it is, it is no longer worth it. And as an artist, you have to speak, and sensitize everyone. These are his last words. Then, he left. What I felt in my songs, I said, Lai, Lai died in my arms, without being buried. I came back, and I don't speak anymore, because it was the end. If it wasn't for the plane, Europe wouldn't see me anymore. I am a member of my family. They supported me, they welcomed me, and they supported me. And I believe in myself, I believe in my country. Alhamdulillah, now I have realized many of my dreams. And then, I released an album called Message du Migrant. I did national tours with the European Union, and in the region, I try to sensitize African young people about the dangers of irregular migration. I speak to young Senegalese about what is happening in these roads. It means the dangers that are happening in these roads. It is no longer worth taking the land routes or the maritime routes to go to Europe, because it is our loss. And then, to make young people believe that we can stay and succeed in our country. As I said, family is blood. It is where we are produced and trained. Family is something very important for me. Our hometown is our pride, our country. So, it is everything for me in Senegal. The message, the message of the migrant, the passers-by, in their lies, made us believe that over there is paradise. I am a migrant coming back. I tell you my story, my story in my melodies. I didn't know, dad, I didn't know, mom, that irregular migration is so dangerous. They put us in danger. African youth die in the middle of the ocean. It is the message, the message of the migrant, the message, the message of the migrant. I think that all the children from Argentina, or from Latin America, have a fantasy thing with China. Like a kind of, with the emperors and with magical things. For me, it started to catch my attention as a child. And well, I think it is all those figures that when you are so far away and everything, this is what makes you think of China, right? I never thought I would live 10 years in China. A home that I remember, where my parents separated when I was 10 years old. But before they separated, I remember very well happy moments I had in a house. It was so important to me. And nowadays, what I like about Beijing, there was also some intimacy in the way people related to each other. There, for example, love can arise, affection can arise, care can arise. And so it came. And this, we cannot see, you know. Ah, yes. But I think now we don't have anymore in Beijing like this. So, I learn a lot from them. They are very kind. We have established a very close relationship. Hello girls, how are you? How are you? How are you? Hello. Hello, hello, how are you? How are you? Good, super good, as always. Well, girls, today we are going to talk about Borges, who is the last author that we are going to work with this semester. And the poem is called El Sur. Desde uno de tus patios haber mirado las antiguas estrellas. Desde el banco de la sombra haber mirado esas luces dispersas que mi ignorancia no ha aprendido a nombrar ni a ordenar en constelaciones. Sí, sí, sí, sí. Bueno, sí, la palabra sur para Borges es muy importante. Se fue de Buenos Aires cuando tenía 15 y volvió cuando tenía 21. A pesar de estar en Buenos Aires, tenía como una nostalgia de Buenos Aires. Tenemos que leer y entender este Borges, que es el Borges jovencito y algunas cositas del poema y del libro en general de toda esta primera etapa de Borges. Hay una diferencia muy grande entre lugar y hogar, ¿no? Y, por ejemplo, en mi caso, un vínculo con los libros, también muchas veces uno trae un libro viejo para que ese lugar sea un hogar. Y después yo creo que también todos tenemos un recuerdo de un hogar por excelencia en nuestra cabeza. Bueno, esta es mi casa de Pekín. Esto es un regalito que me hizo mi sobrina el día que llegué a Argentina después de cuatro años. Por la pandemia no podía viajar, así que me regalaron esto. Esto me lo regaló mi papá, que al final es uno de los que primero me empezó a regalar libros, ¿no? Entonces yo empecé a leer a través de sus libros, así que... Y este me lo regaló mi mamá para mis cumpleaños cuando estuve en Argentina, es decir, hace dos meses. La familia, digamos, materna, ¿no? Era una familia de comerciantes, y eso también me marcó mucho porque, bueno, su padre tenía un comercio donde que se llama como corralón, quiere decir que venden como ladrido, cemento, todo eso, y yo empecé a trabajar ahí o a estar ahí desde chico, es decir, desde los 12 años. Y eso me ayudó mucho en la vida, creo que fue lo que más me marcó, más que la universidad. Pienso que lo que hice más tarde, como por ejemplo una editorial o una librería, la mezcla entre la literatura y una ferretería termina en una editorial. Yo diría que de los recuerdos más alegres que tengo en la vida son de levantarme e ir a la ferretería e ir a trabajar con la gente del patio. Y en 2017 abrimos nuestro local, nuestro primer local así físico. Organizamos muchos eventos en la librería, creo que una librería también es el vínculo entre los lectores y entre el librero y los lectores. Es una red de vínculos, también es parte de mil gotas que un grupo de gente que habla español, chinos, colombianos, argentinos, terminemos todos comiendo chuar juntos, tomando cervezas. El hogar me parece que es ese lugar donde uno se siente a salvo. Después, creo que no es algo puramente físico, sino un lugar donde uno siente que allí puede, por ejemplo, surgir el amor, puede surgir el cariño, puede surgir el cuidado. Y creo que también hay elementos casi simbólicos que hacen que ese lugar sea que un lugar sea un hogar. Otra vez en Pekín. Otra vez en Pekín de madrugada. Lo dejé con mi madre, lo dejé con mi hermana, lo dejé con mi novia, lo dejé con mi exnovia, y otra vez en Pekín de madrugada, mirando el río bajo el aire caliente. El mundo en movimiento y uno cayendo como una piedra. Las ondas expansivas se producen dentro del cuerpo. Otra vez en Pekín mirando el río de madrugada y la gente ya empieza a salir a hacer su vida. 13 of 81 provinces of the country were almost demolished at 80%. More than 50,000 people were died. This was a real catastrophe. During this one, we witnessed a very strong friendship from all over the world, China included. And as we say it, a friend in need is a friend indeed. We'll never forget this. In Turkish society, the family has an important role, as in China. Life is a common road, a road that should be taken and charged jointly in a family. This is something special. It's a music instrument. Its name is a very famous instrument in Turkey. No popular music in Turkey without this instrument. With this object, we call it in Turkey, nazar. Somebody buys a house. When they move to that house for the first time, they hang it on their main door in entrance. People believe that it's important to protect it from bad feelings. Let me now introduce to you another particular object that qualifies Turkish traditional culture. These are traditional Turkish tea. Tea has an important place in our culture. One of the common features between China and Turkey, wherever you go in China, people appreciate and drink tea. In Turkey as well, wherever you are, the first thing the people ask to you as a question, would you take a cup of tea? In our family, everybody thinks that I am the one who prepares the best tea. That's the reason why my wife let me prepare the tea every morning. I think that you had the opportunity today to taste it and to indulge in it as you would wish. Here, me and my wife. We were married in 1990. We have taken this picture at that time, just after almost one year of our marriage. And I am thankful to my wife for supporting me during my whole career. Some painting of my wife who is an artist, a Turkish traditional art artist. She is performing reverse glass painting. We were on a hill. We were appreciating the wonderful view of the bay. After that, my wife painted it. This is my small family. Our daughter and son. Both are at diplomacy as their father. They are young diplomats. These two pictures followed me whenever I am. This helps me to feel at home in family. Home is so much more than a physical place. It's an emotional entity. The wellspring of companionship and solace. And this wellspring transforms itself into a stream flowing to the vast ocean where waves yearn to be reunited with distant shores. Whether that yearning is for safety's embrace or the thirst for ventures into the unknown. As the breeze caresses your face, the air becomes infused with the fragrance of your hometown. I have a house facing the sea. It blooms in spring. A garden of cherry blossoms crinkle above the cherry trees. I will dream a happy dream. I will sing a song. Oh, mother of mine, words from your lips are like a nectar to my ears. My mother is waiting for me at home, I say. How can I leave her and come? From tomorrow on, write to each one of my dear ones. On this land, there is what makes life worth living. I hope there is love and peace somewhere hidden. And I know it is hidden deep inside our heart. Raise your head to the bright moon. Lower your head to your hometown. Sleep. Sleep safe till tomorrow. When you are old and grey and full of sleep and nodding by the fire, take down this book. Please take this book and read it slowly.