Being Human

The streets are quite something. Beautifully paved, with flowers on the side; pedestrians walking and wagons moving back and forth. They all seem oblivious of the beauty.

But beyond the beauty there is something. Something sinister. The blood of so many that has been shed in order to keep these streets so beautiful. Just like nature they can be brutal. Tooth, claw and blood but beautiful still.

As I walk into the city, a sign reads ‘This is Maya, I belong to Maya.’?

I’ve walked this path hundreds of times, funny how one can notice something that’s oblivious most times.

I think to myself, how ironic.

I read those words in a book, they are from one Maya Angelou, who lived long, long before us. And when she said, ‘I belong nowhere and everywhere, I belong to Maya,’ it was a sort of rebellion against those who think a place will give them peace; real peace can only come from within. When one is able to silence the conflict within.

Having been lost in my mind for a minute, what stands on my left is the gate to the market. I walk in, the atmosphere is a captivating blend of beauty and nostalgia. The traders are chanting, others singing. All kinds of noises to draw attention. Others are dancing, a percussionist is making some lovely beats from his drums, and some are waving their products trying to draw in anyone who is passing by.

Nothing is free. You have to pay attention.

The sounds of the market are a symphony of life—soft conversations between traders and customers, the gentle clinking of glass jars, and the rhythmic clicking of bicycle wheels on cobblestones. The atmosphere is lively yet tranquil, with people moving leisurely, exchanging stories as they browse the wares on display.

Stalls brim with an array of merchandise, each piece telling a story of resilience and creativity.

I stop. Ahead is the food section, food stalls are vibrant and inviting, filled with jars of preserved fruits, wild herbs, and colorful, organic vegetables. The rich aroma of baked goods wafts through the air, enticing visitors to sample loaves made with foraged grains and honey harvested from local beekeepers. Exotic spices, gathered from distant lands or painstakingly cultivated in small gardens, are sold in handmade pouches, their fragrances mingling to create an intoxicating olfactory experience.

I am a familiar face in this environment. This is where I work. This is what I wake up to every day. I get my merchandise ready, an assortment of antiquities—old books and forgotten trinkets—each item a fragment of history waiting to be rediscovered. Let the day bring forth what it has in store. No day is ever the same.

Strangers are interesting-some come with stories, some with good news from far and beyond. Some are in a bad mood while others seem quite happy. They bring us what we come here for; goods and money. But is that truly it?

That I'll let you answer for yourself as you walk with me on this journey.

Kobi walks to my stand. He's a common face here. A local hustler, if I may call him that. In his hands is some merchandise in an indiscernible package. Probably something he's looking to flip. He knows I don't deal in such things so he's probably here for a different favor. I listen in.

Oh, of course. He wants some money. I think about it, but not too much. It’s little, barely pocket change. I hand it to him and off he goes, promising to bring it back in not too long.

Why do I entertain him? Oh, I remember. He walks around, so he has a unique view of this city; and sometimes the information he brings me is critical. Or can be critical in decision-making.

?

For most, it's a life of survival, living day by day while holding dearly to the hope of a better tomorrow. Most times, you never really get to grasp just how valuable a respectful-yet-friendly moment means to someone. When you greet them, smile, and make them feel seen, you have no idea what that uplifting moment can do to one's life. When you serve them wholly in the moment, giving them all your attention, it brings out humanity in all of us, keeping the light within shining, although dimly.

The current circumstances are dire. Resources are rare, times are tough, and they bring out the worst and sometimes the best in us, typical of extreme times.

Rule of law? No…more like the law of the jungle. Only that it is skewed to favor some, not the ones with superior strength, claws, teeth, fangs, or poison. Maybe a different kind of poison would apply in this case; one that emanates from the mind- a mixture of narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy- the dark triad. With a bit of intellect and the right kind of circumstances, this mixture can be lethal to many.

?

Human beings have a great capacity to tolerate pain, but at a certain critical point, something in them breaks and there is no going back. Sometimes I don't think I can be able to master the will to soldier on, to keep hope alive if I was in the situation most of these comrades face on a daily basis. I then remember the words spoken by Maya Angelou:

I am a human being, nothing human can be alien to me.

Of course that means if a human being commits the most heinous crime, you can never say I couldn't do that. If a human being did it, you have within myself the components that are in that human being. Mine, I hope, are arranged a bit differently, and if not, I intend to use my energies constructively as opposed to destructively.

So, if you can do that with a negative scenario, how much more could you do with a positive one?? It means if a human being dreams a great dream, dares to develop courage, the most important of all virtues, because without courage you cannot practice any other virtue consistently. You can be anything erratically, but to be that thing time and time again though. So then, if a human being decides to love someone and has an unmitigated goal to accept love in return, it means anyone can do it.

I am a human being, and nothing human can be alien to me.?

My Lord, that statement is liberating. It not only liberates me from other people's ignorance, it liberates me from my own...

How did things get this bad? I ask myself.

When people are pushed to their very limits, when they are on the very edge of their existence, when they can no longer go back because there is no back to go to, when they say enough is enough, there is no basement, this is rock bottom…there, danger lies. Because now they are eyeballing their oppressor; a fight for survival, a fight for their very existence.

?

You could feel it in the air. You could feel it in the streets. The ground wasn’t as stable anymore.

Something was coming. Something is coming…