Learning by stories

The story…

My Europe is a dance
Why I danced in the streets of Plovdiv This story is a recollection of a memory that led me to produce this text on the theme "My Europe".
A Small Suburb

As I read this article, my mind is drawn back to a little suburb. It is waning. There is some hubbub around me. As I walk I see cheerful inns, they have wooden tables and warm LED lights. People are happy, sipping red wine and laughing thunderously. I detect the smell of wood-burning ovens and freshly baked bread. I go deeper and deeper into the stone village, the streets are narrow and on different levels like Esher’s paintings. Suddenly I hear music in the distance. I try to reach for it; it gets louder and louder. I run through the maze of narrow streets and finally come out into a huge square. The square is full of people, full of colours, the music here is very loud and it transports me. I start dancing, not thinking twice about it. The rhythm is addictive, the drums pump the blood in my veins and I go wild. People smile at me and they are all welcoming to me and I dance with them. The music binds us together, and suddenly we all dance in unison. I guess somehow, I imagine this is what Europe is like. This little village could be in Italy, in France, in Germany maybe in Spain, maybe in Belgium or even in Denmark, Greece, Sweden. That was conveyed to me by the article I read. And it has been a so beautiful journey.