America After America (2)
Bible appeared in a certain historical period, when people used to have a certain mentality, some conceptions specific for that time, and were educated according to the doctrines of older religions. In order to make the new ideas understandable, the Bible had to use the language of that time, and needed to combat the bad customs of those times. Today, mankind is different. Not better, but different. The church ought to refer to our customs - good or bad - and to select from the Bible those parables that are still of nowadays interest, or match with our life's questions. There are many reasons to read the Bible now. Here is one of them. The great masters painted mainly biblical scenes. As the most numerous old paintings feature biblical subjects, it is almost impossible to understand the history of the art, without knowing something about the Bible. But there are many deeper reasons. It is true, the Bible seems to be obsolete now, but this is not true. The priest did it putting the science against the faith. Science and faith may stay together, if we wisely interpret the Bible according to our real life. Some things are easy understandable. For example, the Bible said that Jesus would come to the Earth and rule as a king. Why "as a king"? Because kings used to be the maximum that a man could be at that time, the maximum, which men could imagine. How would it sound if it had been said "as a president"? Ridiculous, of course! We say king, but understand the maximum of power and - maybe - wise. And so it happens with almost everything from the Bible. Consequently, let's speak about the signification and not about the story! In ancient Greece, as people used to believe in gods, they were saying that Olympus is the place where gods live. But Olympus is a mountain not so high, and soon people climbed on its top. Then, the priests changed the expression and said that gods live somewhere far away, in a place like a mountain. Such things happened many times, and the priests have to adapt the ideas to new discoveries, otherwise they lose their credibility. The first Christians believed that God is in Heaven, and the Heaven is in the sky. It was all right as long as the earth was thought to be a platter in the middle of the Universe. Now, the sky is vague definite and nobody is curious to know where the Heaven is. Unfortunately, the priests only in the 15th century hardly understood and accept to change their old ideas. Much too late! Their credibility had been already lost Of course, nobody believes now in Mythology. But our ancestors did it. We must know the way in which they thought in order to understand them and their works. Also, we must know the most important fairy tales of people from wide world; they are filled with life philosophy. Some major themes are to be found in any religion, like the deluge. They are the same, but with small differences. Just in those differences we could find deeper philosophical meanings of the religions. By understanding Mythology and Christianity we understand the development of our civilisation. The human nature is described to be sinful. It is not only the Bible and Judaism that do it. Oriental faiths do the same. I often asked myself why? The single explanation that I found is the feeling of guiltiness of the parents, which know better when and how they conceived their children. Fortunately, Christianity does not emphasize this idea, and say that Jesus sacrificed himself for it, so that we are responsible only for our mistakes, not for some imaginary ones. It would make us more responsible. Jesus wanted to show to the people that we are able to fight against to our bad temptations. The Catholic churches are full with images of Jesus' sufferings, but they lost the message. The Orthodox Church was less influenced by occidental doctrine. Here, the Ascension is the central image. This is a more optimistic message: there is a future, therefore there is chance, Jesus will come again, but not a possessed, to massacre most people, as most neo-Protestants threaten us, but as the son of a well-intentioned God. Jesus gave us dignity to stand right, but responsibly. The idea of an ancestral sin is an ancestral one itself. Most old religions contain it. The abandon of this idea is just one of the most important news that Christianity brought. Jesus died for it, consequently the problem is solved, and the topic is closed. To insist on this point means not to understand what Christianity really is. We are not indebted to make sacrifice for imaginary reasons. Instead, we are responsible for our mistakes. Peter says: "... your sins may be forgiven" (Acts 2:38). Yours and not some ancestral ones! Following Christ's way, we propose to ourselves not to make other mistakes. Jesus Christ gave us the dignity to stand right, but responsible. Yes, God is forgiving; he always gives us a second chance, but, for it, we must repent and promise (to ourselves firstly) not to fall again in the mistakes, but to follow God's way. ¶. I am a man of the mountains. This explains my lack of understanding for the plain. But this is my problem, and not the lowland people's one. Octavian Paler, a Romanian writer, wrote a very nice essay about the role of the mountains in the development of characters. The mountain is the Romanians' Parthenon, he says. That does not mean that people of land do not have character; they do and, interestingly, just working the dust of the field moulds it. I appreciate it but notice they are different. In the mountain, people rise every day but they take care to return home at night. In the plain, people need patience to sow in spring and wait till the autumn for harvest, if the weather has been kind. A mountain man is a fighter with many difficulties, even with wild animals sometimes. A farmer is a hard worker too, but he is more of a fatalist, because his harvest depends on the weather. Somebody said that with the mountains the earth raises to the sky and, by means of the people, sky (God or gods) descends onto the earth. I quote this from memory, perhaps it is not an exact quote, but that's the general idea. ¶. Jonesboro is the single more important locality on my way. Gradually, we draw near the mountains. That's the other life! The road is narrow and the vegetation abundant. The bus is almost empty. The area become increasingly picturesque, and shows to good account from the tourist point of view. There are numerous lakes with dozens of boats and villas for leisure. One can hire a boat, but it seems to be almost cheaper to buy one. I understand now why I saw many boats beside houses in areas without a lake nearby, even sometimes in the desert. People bought their boats while on vacation and brought them home, hoping to have another opportunity to use them later. Mostly, it remained just a wish, while the boats corroded. As we advance into the mountains, the resorts occur less frequently. Instead, small mountain localities appear, smaller and smaller, and progressively poorer. Some of them are so disadvantaged that I am wondering how such a thing is possible in the midst of the United States. Beside the road there are some stalls selling second-hand items, maybe even third-hand. At first I thought the sellers were Indians, but they were white people and do not sell handicrafts, but worn out things. As a matter of fact, handicrafts could not be sold, because the tourist area remained far behind. We are now on a secondary road, without tourist traffic. The buyers could not be tourists, but other natives, still poorer than the vendors. At last, I got to Harrison. The bus station is only a room in a wasteland, where the bus stops for a few minutes. Despite being in the mountains, it is warm and pleasant. The last of my uncertainty is over. Shela is waiting for me in the station. I am saved! A unique experience: The Bionic Woman. If you ask Shela about her age, she answers that she has forgotten it. After her appearance, she seems to be about 90 years of age. Actually she is much younger, probably around 70, according to my estimate. By the liveliness of her gestures, she is without age. She talks all the time, even to herself, waves her hands for more eloquence, and smokes a cigarette every fifteen miles, while drives her old Datsun at about 70 miles an hour on a narrow route that winds between mountains. No seat belt of course! Shakes the cigarette ash out through the opened window because fresh air is better than air-conditioning in her opinion. She does not know if air-conditioning unit in her car ever works. She does not live in Harrison itself, but 25 miles deeper into the mountains, where all fellow citizens know her and she greets them. She has no teeth left, and this seems to be one of her greatest regrets. From this reason she did not allow me to take her photograph, although it would have made a good portrait. Fortunately, her diction is pretty good, more understandable than that of many other people with complete teeth, but she speaks in jargon. Her face has some Asiatic traits, even if she does not admit to such ancestors in her genealogical tree. But in the USA nothing is impossible; maybe she herself does not know. Her most recent hobby is the Internet, which is how we became acquainted. She knows a lot of things and thirsts to know more and more. When she learns something new, she enjoys herself as much as someone with the gift of a new car. In the courtyard, a lot of poultry and some animals wait for Shela to feed them in exchange for some conversation. This also provides her with a small income, as the pension - if there is one - seems to be rather little for living. She regrets the death of her mother many years ago, which she still loves in Shela's mind. I guess there are moments when she thinks her mom is still alive upstairs. During our talks on that first day, she mentioned her twice, each time with tears in her eyes. She finds consolation with a nice Bengalis cat, which sleeps ceaseless, but to whom she talks almost continually. When you caress the cat, it opens one eye, but just for a second, to show that it is alive. Otherwise, only a small red tongue pokes from a mass of grey-beige fur. As with almost any old and lonely woman, Shela is afraid of a lot of things and forgets many things. When the fear and oblivion work together, you could expect surprises. I had a great one. When she invited me, I did not realise she was so senile and lonely. When I learnt that, it was too late: I was there, with no possibility of leaving before the next day. She had written to me that she has two daughters and mentioned her mother, as she still does, even though the latter does not exist any longer. As for her daughters, they both had left home to work in other places. We talked about many things. She admired my paintings and I showed her how to use the Internet more efficiently. Things went along in perfect harmony and we continued until late in the evening, although I was very tired from my long journey. It was a pleasant evening. Her desire to know more is still alive for many fields of knowledge, but the Internet is her passion thanks to its novelty. Besides, it gives her a feeling that she is not alone. We went our separate ways to bed eager to resume the conversation next day. After such an exhausting day, I slept like a log. Me, not she! In the morning, the SURPRISE! I woke up to find a policeman looking at me. Detached, Shela proclaimed that my presence worried her and she thought it best to call a policeman to verify me. The night had been a bad advisor for her. Probably she had telephoned one of her daughters, who scared her more: "Who is that man? Why did you bring him into our house? Get him out immediately!" "Call a policeman!" This particular policeman checked my luggage, for form's shake, but right to the bottom, as if I was some Bolshevik spy. He seemed to be an understandable man, however, and did so more for her satisfaction. At one time he said to her "You must be a detective, madam." Anyway, I could not reproach him anything. Rummaging among my documents he discovered my identity card as a journalist, which I had taken with me by chance, for all contingencies. I do not know if it impressed him, but after no long he left. After the policeman's departure, I repacked my belongings, and she started to apologise. Until noon, when the bus would again pass by, she showed me some of the nicest spots in the region, treated me with some local delicacies, and we talked a lot together. As a matter of fact, initially, she invited me there to see and paint some of the landscapes around. Saying good-bye, we hugged each other and she kissed me on the neck. Her eyes held traces of tears. I find her to be a good-hearted woman, but age had made her fearful and inconsequential. In fact she is good, very cleaver and uncommonly nimble. I will keep a pleasant memory of her, in spite of the trouble that she provoked. Toward the West ¶. "A fiasco is the place where you rise from, for going on." C. Noica, a Romanian philosopher, said this. I do not know if it is quite so, but it works for me. Maybe Noica is wrong! Then, here is another one: William Arthur Ward. - The pessimist complains about the wind. - The optimist expects it to change. - The realist adjusts the sails. . . . . . . . . . . . . ¶. Life can be intricate but man has the capacity to pass over its tribulations by more than one means. One of them is the forgetfulness. He forgets unpleasant episodes and goes on. The predilection of men for soldier's jokes has just this explanation. Only small amusing events remain in the memory, as if military service had been nothing else but a continuous entertainment. Big mistake! All the same, I have to commit the same error as well, because the episode with Shela is best forgotten at least for psychological reasons. I think that from this point of view I have already surpassed the critical moment. It remains to see how I will succeed in getting over the palpable effect on the trip schedule. I had been planning to stay there, among the mountains, where I could paint and put my notes in order. Painting was necessary, because I had left six of my best large paintings in a gallery in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Those that remained are too few for an exhibition, even for showing to art dealers. From now on, it will be more and more difficult to paint, as friends accommodate me a short time (The traveller fits in with the travel, doesn't it?) and hotels are too expensive for me. I shall see! Tomorrow is another day. Do you remember Scarlet O'Hara? Atlanta is far away now. For the moment I am best to forget what could be ballast, namely worthless and pernicious. Speaking of forgetfulness, I have always found interesting the proximity of meanings between the verbs to forget and to look back. It does not work in English but it obviously did in Romanian and, probably, in old Greek. I do not know for sure, but Orpheus' legend makes me think so. Let me explain. In Romanian language, to forget and to look back are homonyms: "a uita". As far as the legend goes, it is nice. Thanks to his special qualities, Orpheus had got the privilege to bring back to life Eurydice, his wife, who had just died. Persephone, Hades' wife, who granted him this unexpected favour, asked him not to look behind on his homeward journey until they reached the upper world. Everything goes well but, when they were about to get out, he looked back for assuring of Eurydice really was walking behind him. At that moment, Eurydice vanished back into the darkness of the underworld. In a moment of wandering, Orpheus forgot (a uitat) his engagement, and looked back (s-a uitat inapoi). Later, a fierce band of women killed him and threw his head into the Hebrus River. The head continued to sing for Eurydice and was carried as far as Lesbos, where the muses buried it. Let's remind that his mother, Calliope, was a muse too. In Greek philosophy everything takes part in a cycle, and comes back to where it departed from. Also, singing means to obey the memory. Perpetual return is the fundamental principle in most old faiths, which even the Greeks could not elude. The Jews broke the cycle and the Christians perfected it. They created history, namely something that has a beginning and will have an end. Wow! The Greeks, at the height of their advanced conception, had the notion of infinite only for the time, not for the materiel. According to their conception, atoms were of a finite number. It results from this theory that, however great the possible number of combinations would be, as time is infinite, the atoms will return to identical configurations already seen in the past. Consequently, every shape of life will return somewhere at the same stage after a while. From here, it comes the idea of the cycle, reaffirmed in nature in an infinite number of forms and confirming the idea of perpetual return. Oriental faiths start from the idea that, removing wish, we get rid off the sufferings. But pain is a sign that something goes wrong. It is only a symptom. Removing it we do not remove the cause. Consequently, we must correct our wrong way, behaviour, or convictions. This is the only way. We cannot make a perfect thing for the first time. Not even God did not succeed. He still works for improving his creation. As for the Bible, it needs many up-to-dates. Happiness is everybody's major aim. Any man seeks for his own happiness. That's why all serious religion tried to give a way to its parishioners. Usually, they are persuaded to do nothing but follow a pre-established way. Doing it, they are happy being are sure they are on the right way. As for me, I must confess that I love to learn as much as possible; I split hair for it. Maybe this is a flaw and not a quality, as I am happy only for the moment, when I have just learnt something, but I am not happy generally. ¶. But I philosophise too much for a tired traveller, and in the meantime night has fallen. Oklahoma City, Amarillo - the names sound fine but for now they are only bus stations in the night. I am used to sleeping in the bus by now. In Amarillo I make brief contact with Texas. Brief because the bus route crosses Texas only on a short sector of its northern part. Short, but powerful! At least in the bus station there are plenty of specific products and publicity materials. Texas is a well-known name and everyone loves to see it. Maybe I will have the opportunity to see the real Texas later. For the time being, my travel continues toward New Mexico. New Mexico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Through the desert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . LAS VEGAS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Los Angeles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Backwards . . . . . . . . . . . . . . DALLAS . . . . . . .
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