New concepts of community
Urban life has been a personal fascination of mine for a long while now. When I was living on Tel Aviv, the entire city was my home, and everything concerning it was my community. Living as an immigrant or a tourist in Paris, I experience the concept of my urban community in a profoundly different way.
Our community is basically what ever we define as our immediate environment. This super flimsy definition could just as well mean a small or a large group of people, places and organisations. For the old lonely lady in her one bedroom apartment this could mean close family, the local grocery shop man, and the person reading the news on TV. For the popular 18 years old it could mean dozens of classmates, people they play basketball with, people they play Minecraft online with, friends of their parents.
For me, community in Tel Aviv was a fairly large group. I knew specific homeless people on my street, shop keepers, regulars in the nearest coffee place. I knew the regular car owners parking on my street, people that walked their dogs or did their jogging on the same time I was out to practice my hobbies. All of those people shared the same social atmosphere with me: same cultural shocks effected their lives as mine, same references where at the basis of what went through their minds.
I came to think of this with the recent French elections. I am living through an event that is at the very least important in the lives of everyone around me, but I don’t care.
I went out to listen to some music during the “fete de la music” event, and the lady singer in the rock band that was playing behind the Notre-Dame-de-la-Croix cathedral on my street kept chanting Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s name. In my neighbourhood, that much I know, voting for Melenchon is popular and all the cool kids do it. But he’s an old white guy and around me was a young, ethnically diverse crowd, with a strong tendency for hipster looking fashion items and hair styles. Are they the local version of “Bernie bros”? Is this an anti-racist thing or a welfare-state thing? Or is this an anti-capitalistic, anti-globalism protest that mirrors what’s happening on the right? I really have no idea.
I’m swimming in a lovely pool that’s about to close for two years, for renovations for the Olympic games. Where are all the people coming here going to swim when it’s closed?
If you think I’m being petty try to think of a political chant during a street music event in your street. What are the chances you wouldn’t know what people think of the candidate and why they like him? That’s a given. You’ll have a solid opinion about the political figure, the chanting performer and the audience cheering.
The online world alows us to participate in communities that are based far away from us and in communities that have no geographical affiliation. It’s new and exciting and the possibilities around that are not even fully discovered. But for me, it makes me wonder. I don’t know how long I would have to spend in Paris to feel like a part of a local community. I don’t know how long away from Tel Aviv would make me care less about a random bike line being canceled or paved there.
At the moment, this limbo between the places grants me freedom and peace. I enjoy being away from the stress and the vague feeling of panic that characterises the life in Israel. I heard this from many people that relocated and now I can validate that feeling myself: when you are a foreigner, you care less. It’s not that there are less car accidents in France or less corrupt politicians or less racism. It’s that those are not my problems. Not caring is a terrible way to contribute and make changes but it’s a great way to achieve peace of mind.
I try to think of a way to mix the good parts of all worlds together. Is it possible to live in your community and care only about what you want? Is it possible to live in Tel Aviv and not get excited about politics, and is it possible to live in Paris and know the local dilemmas of zoning and noise regulations? Can we define the perimeters of our community? I’m not sure, but I doubt it.
Meanwhile, I wanted to settle my conflict with the d’Orsay museum. My last visit there, three years ago, was a disaster and I hated it. It was hot and crowded and those are not fitting conditions to see art. I also don’t like many of the featured styles (I really don’t like Monet for example) and I couldn’t understand the general enthusiasm for this museum. A friend visiting was a good enough excuse and I went once more.
It was far less crowded and hot and noisy which was a huge plus (never go on weekends). The art that I don’t like is still there and I still dislike it. The temporary Gaudi exhibition was underwhelming. A few works by Gustave Courbet made me happy. When I reached the top floor the space was crowded again and I was about to walk away feeling vindicated about my discontentment for the place. Miraculously, on my way out, I entered the room dedicated mostly to Eduard Degas — it was all worth it.
