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Japan, Planet Earth

Legends of Nikko

posted by Aleksandra Tofil
Apr 9, 2017 5727 0 0
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In a spacious restaurant, a family is looking for a shelter from the rain. Thousands of knick-knacks cover each corner of the large room.

On the shelves, there are collected souvenirs, sun-yellowed photos, old dolls and plush mascots falling apart at the seams. From the walls – white sheets of a paper cast in wooden frames – hang calendars from this and past years. Watercolours of dragons and blooming sakura sway in a breeze from the ceiling fan. Next to them, on the handmade paper, calligraphed Japanese characters announce maxims and proverbs.

Parents sit their daughters – both dressed in floral-patterned, festive yukatas – at one of the tables in the centre of the room. A grey-haired, stooped with age woman comes to greet them.

“The weather is asking for a hot soba” caring, but a firm voice announces the order without asking guests for it.

Briefly, in front of the family stand four steaming bowls of soup. There are many mouth-watering goodies over the dark buckwheat noodles drowning in fish stocks: mushrooms, shredded chives and onions, marinated seaweed, aburaage – thin, fried slices of soy tofu, and finally naruto – fish cake with a pink swirl sign of the famous Naruto Strait.


 
“And the princess? Why so sad?” the old lady asks, seeing a near crying face of the younger girl.

“She is not very happy with the trip. She had to get up early in the morning. And on top of that, the weather is horrible. We barely got off the train from Tokyo when the rain started.”

“Hmm, yes, yes. Not an easy life for the princess” grandma nods with understanding. “But it will be worth it. You see, there is a proverb: ‘Do not say kekko [enough] until you see Nikko.’ Do you know why? Because this is a fairy-tale and magical place.”

The old lady sits the child on her lap and starts the story.

“Before the last rain drops touch the earth, the sun will come out. A rainbow will stretch over the sky as far as the Shinkyo Bridge. Once, only the shogun had the privilege of crossing it. One end of the red bridge is lost in the lush greenery of the forest surrounding the city. The other reaches the grounds of the Toshogu Temple.”

“To the Toshogu itself leads a wide asphalt road. It swirls through an old cedar forest that smells of wet bark and cones. At the top of the road stands a pagoda. Under the eaves of each floor, there are intricately carved, beautifully coloured ornaments. Every floor is a symbol of one of the elements: water, fire, earth and air. Fifth is an ether that unites all the others in the matter that makes up the universe.”

The older sister joins the girl sitting on the grandmother’s lap. The old lady smiles at her wide-open, curious eyes and continues the story.

“Behind the pagoda, you will see stone steps and a large gate. Its black roof protects statues of Shinto deities from the rain. They are the guardians of the entrance and the temple. Behind the gate, there is a cobbled square. Its outlines are dotted with dozens of stone lanterns. Above them, tower utility buildings. Even they are elaborately decorated with sculptures and gold paint.”

“In the temple stable, a sacred white horse will greet you with a joyful neigh. His health is guarded by three wise monkeys carved under the roof of the building. You know why they are called the wise?” asks the old woman.

Both girls and their parents shake their heads.

“Because they do not let themselves into wickedness and misery. Each of them covers eyes, ears and mouth to see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil. These principles accompany them in all stages of life: the carefree childhood, hardships of growing up and the search for the meaning of life, until an inevitable death. Eight carved attic panels will tell you their story.”

“Then you will go through the Yomeimon gate. The magnificent, expansive building will delight you with the golden finish of the roof that lifts towards the sky. With its massive arms, it protects wooden walls decorated with over 400 carved ornaments. Those who saw for the first time the glory of the gate couldn’t have enough of looking at it. Hence, its second name is ‘higurashi-no-mon’ – ‘look till the sunset and not have enough’.”

“Before I tell you about the dragon, I’ll make some hot ocha,” says grandma and disappears in the kitchen. After a while, she reappears with a jug of steaming green tea. She pours the liquid into the tiny ceramic cups and hands them to the guests. Warming her hands over the cup, she takes up the story.


 
“Where was I … oh yes, the Crying Dragon. He lives in one of the temple buildings just behind the Yomeimon. His likeness is majestically painted on the hall ceiling. You need to stand directly under the dragon’s head and hit the two wooden blocks. Then the whole room will ring with a vibrating sound that resembles sobbing. But remember, only Shinto priests can make the dragon cry.”

“Now you can go to the main shrine where prayers are held. But before you go in, you need to wash up. At the entrance, you will see a stone water sink. There are pots with long handles on it. Rinse your hands and mouth with water. Remember, do not touch the container with your lips. Pour the water onto your palm and sip the liquid from it. Then spit it all out to a sluice at to bottom of the stone sink. Will you remember all this?”

Both heads vigorously nod in a sign of confirmation.

“When you stand under the Sakashitamon gate, look up. At the top of the structure, between colourfully painted ornaments, a sculpture of a sleeping cat sits. It is not an ordinary cat. It is the spirit of Tokugawa himself – the great and mighty Shogun for whom the entire temple was erected. As one of the deities, he was guarding the whole Japan, making it safe and peaceful.”

“The Sakashitamon is a beginning of 200 steep stairs. They climb between cypress trunks and mossy stone barriers. At their top, on a cobbled square surrounded by forest, stands a casket with Tokugawa’s remains. The tomb is very modest but dignified. Just like Shogun who eternally sleeps there, for whom earthly luxuries were nothing, and honour – everything.”

With the grandma’s last sentence the sun ray falls into the room, casting a warm streak on her face.

“Oh! I’m talking and talking – haven’t even noticed that the rain stopped!”

The girls leap to a window. Outside, a light breeze shakes the last rain drops from the tree branches. Over a cloudless sky stretches the rainbow.


 

Nikko – a magical town

Nikko is a small town in the Tochigi Prefecture of Japan, about 140km north of Tokyo. The capital of Japan offers convenient connections to Nikko via Tobu Railways and Japan Railways (JR). Ticket prices vary depending on the type of train (rapid, limited express, etc. – 1300 – 5000 JPY / 12 – 45 USD) – more information here. Also, Tobu Railways offer bundle tickets for bus trips in Nikko itself – more information here.

NNikko has achieved international fame through its tourist attractions both within the town itself and in its immediate vicinity. The most famous are:
 

What to see in Nikko

  • Toshogu Temple
  • Shinkyo Bridge
  • Kanmangafuchi Abyss
  • Kegon Waterfall

Toshogu Temple

The dying wish of the Shogun Tokugawa (general of the shogunate who ruled over Japan for more than 250 years) was the erection of the temple, with him as one of the deities – Tosho Daigongen (“The Great Deity of the Shining East”). He was supposed to ensure that there were undisturbed order and peace in Japan. At first, the temple was not very splendid – what is hard to believe in, looking at its splendour today. In the first half of the 17th century, however, Tokugawa’s grandson converted it into an impressive temple complex.

Over a dozen of temple buildings are richly decorated with wooden carvings and gold gilded ornaments. These decorations are rare for temples of Shinto religion, which are usually very minimalist and discreet. Rich ornamentation is characteristic for Buddhist temples, though, and these traits are preserved in Toshogu. This fact adds to the complex uniqueness, as during the Meiji era all symbols of Buddhism were removed from the holy places. But here they were allowed to coexist with Shinto elements in harmonious unity.

Magnificent in its splendour, the temple is on the list of UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

Opening hours:
April – October: 08:00 – 17:00
November – March: 08:00 – 16:00
The last entrance – 30 minutes before closing

Tickets:
Temple – 1300 JPY / 12 USD
Museum – 1000 JPY / 9 USD
Temple and museum – 2100 JPY / 19 USD

Shinkyo Bridge

“The Holy Bridge” belongs to the Futarasan Temple. It is considered one of the three greatest in Japan. Stretched over the Daiya River, it is listed as World Heritage Site of UNESCO since 1999.

According to a legend, the Shōdō priest wanted to get through the Daiya River to Nantai Mountain and pray for the welfare of Japan. However, the strong and swift current of the river did not allow him to do so. The priest prayed so earnest that the God Jinja-Daiou appeared in front of him. Two snakes wrapped around his hand. God released the snakes that formed the bridge for Shōdō to pass.

Opening hours:
April – September: 08:00 – 17:00
October – beginning of November: 08:00 – 16:00
End of November – March: 09:00 – 16:00

Tickets – 300 JPY / 3 USD

Kanmangafuchi Abyss

A gorge picturesquely situated in a forest by the river. Its fame owes not only to the lovely location but also to the row of stone statues adorned with red hats and headscarves. The teeth of time apparently gnaw some of the statues – their heads missing, the contours blurred. Some of them, however, are holding up well, which allows looking at their details.

The figures depict Jizo, an enlightened being who can reach Nirvana but delays it to help others. In Japanese culture, Jizo is guardians of dead or unborn children who have not yet managed to accumulate enough of good karma to enter paradise. According to the legend, the figure setting is constantly changing, and visitors will never see them twice in the same arrangement.

Opening hours – unregulated

Tickets – free admission

Kegon Waterfall

Located about 30 minutes by bus from central Nikko. The 100-meter waterfall starts its origin in the waters of Lake Chuzenji and is one of the three most famous, tallest and most impressive waterfalls in Japan. At the end of October, it is a very popular place to admire the colours of autumn.

Opening hours:
March – November: 08:00 – 17:00
December – February: 09:00 – 16:30

Tickets – 550 JPY / 20 PLN / 5 USD


 
 

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Laughter echoes over the long table marked here and there with golden specks of the sun piercing through leaves of the vine. Laughter hearty and contagious. After a while, the whole courtyard, hidden in the blissful shade of grapevines, sounds with it. Even dogs tired of the heat set their tails in motion.

Only minutes ago, the same people – family and friends – were working in the heat of the sun. Hands armed with sharp scissors cut the heavy, emerald-golden bunches of Alvarinho - the world-famous jewels of grapes from the Monção-Melgaço region.

Sweat flooded the eyes. The merciless rays of the sun scorched every each of the skin. The backs ached from long hours of work.

The afternoon washed away fatigue and toil. They dissolved in joyful closeness. They were drowned out by delight, over the mouth-watering dishes steaming on the table; by the buzz of conversations and rascal jokes; by the burst of the wine bottle cork, fancifully cut with a knife and by the clink of wine glasses raised in toasts.

They disappeared between handshakes, pecks on the cheeks and hearty slaps on the back - "great work!". 

Work that will start again at dawn tomorrow. Again, it will break backs and flood still sleepy eyes with sweat. The work that won't stop for many, many weeks. And which, along with exhaustion, brings the happiness of keeping the tradition alive.

The tradition of human life led to the rhythm set by nature. The tradition of sharing the hardships of work and the joys of rest. The multi-generational tradition of creating a unique wine taste - as sharp as the toil and as sweet as the friendship. As the family.

#portugal #portugalia #moncaoemelgaco #alvarinho #wine #wino #grapes #winogrona #winobranie #grapeharvest
[🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Obudził nas wybuch [🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Obudził nas wybuch gazu. Potworny huk zaraz za ścianą karetki. Wyjrzeliśmy przestraszeni. Zamiast zgliszczy i zniszczenia zobaczyliśmy potężną, kolorową czaszę startującego balonu.

- Ni hao! – z masywnego kosza podczepionego pod balon, dobiegło nas chińskie powitanie.

Wkrótce powietrzny pojazd zmienił się w maleńką kropkę zawieszoną nad horyzontem. Dołączył do dziesiątek jemu podobnych. Malutkich, gruszkowatych punkcików, jeszcze bezbarwnych czernią na tle nieba, czekającego na wschód słońca.

Chwilę później wszystko zaczęło nabierać kolorów. Zapieczone piaskowce Kapadocji nasiąkały złotem i pomarańczem. Zza ciemnej, nieregularnej linii horyzontu podnosiła się powoli jeszcze jedna czasza. Balon wschodzącego słońca dostojnie wzbijał się do lotu.

Usiedliśmy na klifie. Dziesiątki metrów pod naszymi stopami kolejne balony gotowały się do startu. Nad głowami unosiły się inne. Patrzyliśmy zahipnotyzowani, zaczarowani napowietrznym baletem. Zwieszeni między żywiołami – ze stopami w czerwonej ziemi Kapadocji, z głową w jej złotych chmurach.

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Exactly a year ago - on 17/12/2019 - on a rainy and extremely dark evening, we drove into Portugal.
We were supposed to stay here for a short while only. Just to prepare the homebulance - and ourselves – for the travel across Africa.
The planned three months turned into twelve.
Over the past 366 days, we have been eating dishes that are typical for every corner of Portugal. We can almost list all of the 1000 bacalhau recipes. Masterfully - and with innate modesty - we can cook caldo verde, bacalhau à brás and francesinha. We are able to tell waiters where, in their own restaurant - with the cupboard-and-the-first-shelf-from-the-bottom accuracy - they will find Piri-Piri sauce. We eat 'Romeo and Juliet' without fear of committing an act of cannibalism. And, instead of blood, in our veins flow bagaço, aguardente, port wine and vinho verde.
We even participated in the creation of the 2020 vintage of the latter, collecting in the scorching sun the unique alvarinho grapes, characteristic to the Monção and Melgaço subregion.
With the cat food, we fed substantial numbers of Portuguese stray (occasionally also not-so-stray) birds, cats and dogs, including the bunch of gentle giants - Castro Laboreiro dogs. We met two colonies of bats that live behind the bookshelves of the beautiful Baroque Biblioteca Joanina in Coimbra.
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- Ależ on pięknie wygląda! 

Pierwszy raz na Monastyr Sumela spojrzeliśmy z oddali mostu doń prowadzącego. Potężna budowla wtulała się w jeszcze potężniejszą górę. Bezpieczna w objęciach ostrych, skalistych stoków lewitowała nad falującym morzem zieleni. 

Według legendy, sama Matka Boska wskazała miejsce, na którym miała być wzniesiona budowla, gdzie spocznie jej ikona, wykonana przez Św. Łukasza. 

Boskie miejsce!

Im bardziej się zbliżaliśmy do monastyru, tym większy podziw w nas wzbudzał. Coraz dokładniej widzieliśmy koronki krużganków, którymi kiedyś spacerowali zakonnicy. Coraz wyraźniej wyobrażaliśmy sobie widoki, które musieli widzieć z okien swoich cel. Bezpiecznie zawieszeni w powietrzu na kamiennej chmurze monastyru.

Z aparatami w gotowości pędzimy do kasy, żeby jak najszybciej móc dokumentować piękno miejsca. Mimo ucha puszczamy uwagi kasjerki, że wejść można owszem, ale trwają teraz roboty renowacyjne. Kiwamy, głowami, że wiemy, że nieważne, że zapłacimy każdą cenę, żeby tylko zobaczyć na żywo obraz, który już wymalowaliśmy sobie w wyobraźni. 

Z palcami drżącymi gotowością naciskania migawki wpadamy na dziedziniec monastyru i …

...stajemy przed gigantycznym rusztowaniem, które zasłania absolutnie wszystko. Nie tylko sam budynek, ale i widok zeń się rozciągający.

Czasami warto wyciszyć nieco wyobraźnię, a wsłuchać się bardziej w słowa kasjerek.

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[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Fotograficzni intru [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Fotograficzni intruzi, czyli dlaczego rzadko pojawiamy się na naszych zdjęciach.

Jeszcze widać, że nie tak dawno toczyło się w nim życie. Że miał duszę, tak, jak ci którzy do niego przychodzili. Teraz stoi cichy, pusty. I piękny w tym, z jaką godnością poddaje się naciskowi czasu.

W jego wysłużonym, spracowanym wnętrzu staram się pozować. Na tle rozświetlonych foto-idealnym słońcem podwojów; na ambonie trzeszczącej historią i pachnącej próchnem; przy pustych wnękach osamotniałych kapliczek.
Staram się pozować i czuję się jak intruz.

Jakbym zawłaszczała sobie coś, co należy się naszym rzeczywistym bohaterom – stareńkiemu kościołowi, który kruszy się pod naciskiem czasu, ale robi to tak godnie i pięknie, że aż wzrusza; zatoczce na irańskiej wyspie Keszm, gdzie księżyc rozsrebrza noce tak bardzo, że wszystko wokół rzuca bajkowe cienie; ciekawskim mongolskim nomadom, którzy nalegają na wymianę numerów telefonów i prowadzenie przeuroczych w swojej dziwności mongolsko-polskich rozmów.

Nie czujemy się dobrze przed obiektywem, bo nie czujemy się go warci, kiedy dookoła dzieją się sceny, które powinniśmy rzeczywiście pokazywać.

Dlatego Kochani, mało nas widzicie na zdjęciach, ale to dlatego, że bardziej niż nasze malutkie osóbki, chcemy Wam pokazać wielki, przepiękny świat.

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[🇵🇱POLSKA WERSJA W KOMENTARZACH] "It is 'Ro [🇵🇱POLSKA WERSJA W KOMENTARZACH]

"It is 'Romeo and Juliet'. Bitter-sour ripening cheese - manly like Romeo and marmalade made of marmelo - sweet like Juliet."

Laughter echoes over the long table marked here and there with golden specks of the sun piercing through leaves of the vine. Laughter hearty and contagious. After a while, the whole courtyard, hidden in the blissful shade of grapevines, sounds with it. Even dogs tired of the heat set their tails in motion.

Only minutes ago, the same people – family and friends – were working in the heat of the sun. Hands armed with sharp scissors cut the heavy, emerald-golden bunches of Alvarinho - the world-famous jewels of grapes from the Monção-Melgaço region.

Sweat flooded the eyes. The merciless rays of the sun scorched every each of the skin. The backs ached from long hours of work.

The afternoon washed away fatigue and toil. They dissolved in joyful closeness. They were drowned out by delight, over the mouth-watering dishes steaming on the table; by the buzz of conversations and rascal jokes; by the burst of the wine bottle cork, fancifully cut with a knife and by the clink of wine glasses raised in toasts.

They disappeared between handshakes, pecks on the cheeks and hearty slaps on the back - "great work!". 

Work that will start again at dawn tomorrow. Again, it will break backs and flood still sleepy eyes with sweat. The work that won't stop for many, many weeks. And which, along with exhaustion, brings the happiness of keeping the tradition alive.

The tradition of human life led to the rhythm set by nature. The tradition of sharing the hardships of work and the joys of rest. The multi-generational tradition of creating a unique wine taste - as sharp as the toil and as sweet as the friendship. As the family.

#portugal #portugalia #moncaoemelgaco #alvarinho #wine #wino #grapes #winogrona #winobranie #grapeharvest
[🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Obudził nas wybuch [🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Obudził nas wybuch gazu. Potworny huk zaraz za ścianą karetki. Wyjrzeliśmy przestraszeni. Zamiast zgliszczy i zniszczenia zobaczyliśmy potężną, kolorową czaszę startującego balonu.

- Ni hao! – z masywnego kosza podczepionego pod balon, dobiegło nas chińskie powitanie.

Wkrótce powietrzny pojazd zmienił się w maleńką kropkę zawieszoną nad horyzontem. Dołączył do dziesiątek jemu podobnych. Malutkich, gruszkowatych punkcików, jeszcze bezbarwnych czernią na tle nieba, czekającego na wschód słońca.

Chwilę później wszystko zaczęło nabierać kolorów. Zapieczone piaskowce Kapadocji nasiąkały złotem i pomarańczem. Zza ciemnej, nieregularnej linii horyzontu podnosiła się powoli jeszcze jedna czasza. Balon wschodzącego słońca dostojnie wzbijał się do lotu.

Usiedliśmy na klifie. Dziesiątki metrów pod naszymi stopami kolejne balony gotowały się do startu. Nad głowami unosiły się inne. Patrzyliśmy zahipnotyzowani, zaczarowani napowietrznym baletem. Zwieszeni między żywiołami – ze stopami w czerwonej ziemi Kapadocji, z głową w jej złotych chmurach.

#kapadocja #cappadocia #turcja #turkey #balloons #balony #yourshotphotographer #natgeoyourshot
[🇵🇱 POLSKI W KOMENTARZACH] Today is our Port [🇵🇱 POLSKI W KOMENTARZACH]
Today is our Portuguese anniversary!
Exactly a year ago - on 17/12/2019 - on a rainy and extremely dark evening, we drove into Portugal.
We were supposed to stay here for a short while only. Just to prepare the homebulance - and ourselves – for the travel across Africa.
The planned three months turned into twelve.
Over the past 366 days, we have been eating dishes that are typical for every corner of Portugal. We can almost list all of the 1000 bacalhau recipes. Masterfully - and with innate modesty - we can cook caldo verde, bacalhau à brás and francesinha. We are able to tell waiters where, in their own restaurant - with the cupboard-and-the-first-shelf-from-the-bottom accuracy - they will find Piri-Piri sauce. We eat 'Romeo and Juliet' without fear of committing an act of cannibalism. And, instead of blood, in our veins flow bagaço, aguardente, port wine and vinho verde.
We even participated in the creation of the 2020 vintage of the latter, collecting in the scorching sun the unique alvarinho grapes, characteristic to the Monção and Melgaço subregion.
With the cat food, we fed substantial numbers of Portuguese stray (occasionally also not-so-stray) birds, cats and dogs, including the bunch of gentle giants - Castro Laboreiro dogs. We met two colonies of bats that live behind the bookshelves of the beautiful Baroque Biblioteca Joanina in Coimbra.
In the scorching sun and torrent rain, we walked across national parks with ancient tumulus, 'Jurassic beaches' with imprints of prehistoric plants, animals and other unidentified objects; with summer (branda) and winter (inverneira) pastoral villages.

#portugal #portugalia
Capela do Senhor da Pedra - Miramar #portugal #po Capela do Senhor da Pedra - Miramar

#portugal #portugalia #miramar #vilanovadegaia #chapelofthelordofthestone #capeladosenhordapedra #yourshotphotographer
[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] - Ależ on piękni [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]

- Ależ on pięknie wygląda! 

Pierwszy raz na Monastyr Sumela spojrzeliśmy z oddali mostu doń prowadzącego. Potężna budowla wtulała się w jeszcze potężniejszą górę. Bezpieczna w objęciach ostrych, skalistych stoków lewitowała nad falującym morzem zieleni. 

Według legendy, sama Matka Boska wskazała miejsce, na którym miała być wzniesiona budowla, gdzie spocznie jej ikona, wykonana przez Św. Łukasza. 

Boskie miejsce!

Im bardziej się zbliżaliśmy do monastyru, tym większy podziw w nas wzbudzał. Coraz dokładniej widzieliśmy koronki krużganków, którymi kiedyś spacerowali zakonnicy. Coraz wyraźniej wyobrażaliśmy sobie widoki, które musieli widzieć z okien swoich cel. Bezpiecznie zawieszeni w powietrzu na kamiennej chmurze monastyru.

Z aparatami w gotowości pędzimy do kasy, żeby jak najszybciej móc dokumentować piękno miejsca. Mimo ucha puszczamy uwagi kasjerki, że wejść można owszem, ale trwają teraz roboty renowacyjne. Kiwamy, głowami, że wiemy, że nieważne, że zapłacimy każdą cenę, żeby tylko zobaczyć na żywo obraz, który już wymalowaliśmy sobie w wyobraźni. 

Z palcami drżącymi gotowością naciskania migawki wpadamy na dziedziniec monastyru i …

...stajemy przed gigantycznym rusztowaniem, które zasłania absolutnie wszystko. Nie tylko sam budynek, ale i widok zeń się rozciągający.

Czasami warto wyciszyć nieco wyobraźnię, a wsłuchać się bardziej w słowa kasjerek.

#turkey #turcja #sümela #sümelamanastırı #sumelamonastery #yourshotphotographer
[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Fotograficzni intru [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Fotograficzni intruzi, czyli dlaczego rzadko pojawiamy się na naszych zdjęciach.

Jeszcze widać, że nie tak dawno toczyło się w nim życie. Że miał duszę, tak, jak ci którzy do niego przychodzili. Teraz stoi cichy, pusty. I piękny w tym, z jaką godnością poddaje się naciskowi czasu.

W jego wysłużonym, spracowanym wnętrzu staram się pozować. Na tle rozświetlonych foto-idealnym słońcem podwojów; na ambonie trzeszczącej historią i pachnącej próchnem; przy pustych wnękach osamotniałych kapliczek.
Staram się pozować i czuję się jak intruz.

Jakbym zawłaszczała sobie coś, co należy się naszym rzeczywistym bohaterom – stareńkiemu kościołowi, który kruszy się pod naciskiem czasu, ale robi to tak godnie i pięknie, że aż wzrusza; zatoczce na irańskiej wyspie Keszm, gdzie księżyc rozsrebrza noce tak bardzo, że wszystko wokół rzuca bajkowe cienie; ciekawskim mongolskim nomadom, którzy nalegają na wymianę numerów telefonów i prowadzenie przeuroczych w swojej dziwności mongolsko-polskich rozmów.

Nie czujemy się dobrze przed obiektywem, bo nie czujemy się go warci, kiedy dookoła dzieją się sceny, które powinniśmy rzeczywiście pokazywać.

Dlatego Kochani, mało nas widzicie na zdjęciach, ale to dlatego, że bardziej niż nasze malutkie osóbki, chcemy Wam pokazać wielki, przepiękny świat.

#portugal #portugalia #arrimal #serrasdeaireecandeeiros
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