Othering

Monday surmised the most random of thoughts. I had a very compelling idea to craft my own cotton blanket sheet, silk pillowcases (yes, my vanity and fear of crow lines motivated it) and PVC leather pouches with monograms. Hannah suggested visiting Chinatown for competitive fabric pricing. It was a nice treat and change to visit People Park’s Complex. The foreign exclusive charm begets a stronger flavor and history that the land and people still clings strongly onto. Maybe it is because of my role as an outsider, detached from the transformations and history of the site, that I could not empathize and could not relate to the familiar smell, faces and gestures of its place. I felt acutely aware of the incongruence to my own familiar environment – it was different, good or bad, I do not know but it made me feel sharply alone in the bustling crowd of people, noises and aroma.

In ways unknown, Mary Lennox’s loneliness seems familiar and almost an echo of what I could and might be. She ascribes human qualities to the little red robin as if it could possibly empathize and relate as humans do. Some days, when Pedro looks at me begrudgingly and ignores me (as if) with intention, I have the pulling inclination that empathy is not exclusive to the human race. Some days, when Pedro runs up to me at the shrill and screech of his name, I have the nudging inclination that animals may understand way better than we believe they do. The stray cat with his nasal purrs and belly ups, the wandering mongrel who subtly leads me to my cousins’ hiding spots during a game of Hide & Seek, the endless rants/conversations I used to have with dogs or cats when I was a little child walking through the tall grasses and endless banana plantations, or even now when Pedro listens to my endless whining and complaints – be it with a begrudging grumpy face -, I have the most insane thought that humans have chosen to opt out of the secret language of gestures, of non-speech, of quiet silence.  We have opted out and instead believes that the silence, the inability of animals to speak in our tongues is but a cripple, handicap in the process of evolution. Would it not be an ironic fallacy if it was us that do not understand, do not speak the language of silence and gesture?