Duracell Rabbit runs out of batteries

The president of the French Republic, Mr. Nicolas Sarkozy, left yesterday the Val de Grâce military hospital, were he had spent some hours after a sudden faintness during his daily jogging.

Mr. Sarkozy’s forced visit to hospital gave rise to comments of all kinds. The political class unanimously expressed its encouragement to the President. Meanwhile, pundits from all sides speculated, argued, glossed and pontificated about the virtues and defects of a political animal defined as hyperactive by fans and critics alike. The former denounced again “l’hyperpresidence”, which they see as the president exerting total control and protagonism contrary to the traditional distant leadership of the V Republic, what turns even the government ministers into spectators with no other recourse than running after the presidential initiatives, in a potentially dangerous transformation of the executive power and hence the very balance of powers. Meanwhile, the latter commended again a tireless and selfless man who tries by all means pushing for reform in a rather conservative country which sees itself in decline but yet resists change.

Personal views aside, we are talking about someone famous for being a hard worker, who rarely touches alcohol –which could explain his curious press conference right after a meeting with Mr. Vladimir Putin (see this video), who exercises regularly, some say up to torturing himself, and above all, who has a heavily loaded agenda full of travel within and out of the country. By the way it seems that the first lady has shown her disgust with comments appeared in the British press, which attributed the presidential malaise to her ardent demands. Such comments are coincident with the French vox populi. In any event, what Sarkozy suffered seems no more than an occasional incident which should possibly lead him to lower his pace a bit, but nothing more.

However, this incident raised again the question of information about the President’s health. Sarkozy committed to following the practice established by François Mitterrand of publishing health bulletins every fortnight, with transparency. Mitterrand did establish this practice, yet the bulletins proved to be worth very little. Later we learned that he spent practically five years of his last mandate fighting a prostate cancer which consumed him, leaving him barely capable to do his job. For the time being, Sarkozy’s moves on this were no more than cosmetic, since he did not hesitate in firing one of his spokespersons who was too zealous in providing information about a minor surgery intervention. Secrecy about the President’s health is justified with rather spurious arguments –national security, as he’s the person retaining the nuclear power? Disincentives to power or succession fights?-, and his nothing but another element in the liturgy of power, and on something French people love: secrecy itself.

Ferraaaaaaaaaaaaaan!

It is Monday, late afternoon. It has been, as all Mondays, a long day, especially since the good weather permitted a full enjoyment of the weekend. I managed to get home early enough, so I have some spare time after leaving for dinner at Jaïr’s, to welcome a Scots friend based in Beijing who is visiting.

I lay on my bed, reading. I’m finishing one of the most interesting books I read lately: “The uncertainty of hope”, by the London-based Zimbabwean Valerie Tagwira. The novel describes life in Mbare, a disadvantaged suburb in Harare, in 2005, when the government launched Operation Murambatsvina (“drive out the trash”, in Shona language), which consisted in fighting informal trade and all problems associated with slums through a very straightforward approach: forced expulsion of all inhabitants and demolition of any form of housing that lacked an officially approved building plan. Eliminating the disease by killing the patient, in a context where the economy was nearly collapsing by structural problems of the supply chain which would continue for years and would eventually unchain the spiralling hyperinflation that I could see in person. This operation only reinforced the conditions of poverty that was supposed to alleviate.

It was not easy to enter into the story, but shortly afterwards the novel completely captured my attention and became another of those cases I love: when commuting to work becomes too short of a travel, when I allow myself a minute standing on the platform to finish a chapter, when sometimes sleeping hours are affected, but never too much…
-“Ferran!”
I think I heard a voice shouting my name. So now I hear voices? Am I nuts? I carry on reading.
-“Ferran!”
Yes, it was my name! I realize my windows are open, it is hot outside. It must be someone who knows where I leave and who is looking for me… What a strange thing!

I look through the window and the mystery vanishes with an enormous surprise. My friend Anand! He used to be my neighbour, up until he went back to India by the end of 2006. My landlady put us in touch, and that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, made out of long conversations about music, cinema, life and whatever else was on. I was absent on the occasion of all his recent visits to Paris. Today I am very pleasantly surprised.

We met and we established a good relationship as neighbours, which is something rare in Paris. While these things become increasingly scarce in the “developed” world, I come from a culture where neighbours are always well known, sometimes even an extension of the family. This is uncommon in Paris, a particularly anonymous city where people, be it out of shyness or complete lack of interest, very seldom make contact with neighbours, unless there is a leak or something similar. Actually people are famous in Paris for speeding up to close the door of the lift or of their house to avoid contact with neighbours. By the end of the spring, the municipality organizes every year “la fête des voisins”, so people have a space to meet!

Besides that, Anand did something that brings me back to childhood. He passes by, and in fact he is not even sure that I still live here, yet he sees an open window and just shouts out. Great, and even more unusual, as our culture’s evolution is such than going to see someone out of an impromptu becomes increasingly rare. A French friend completely astonished me with his reply on the phone. I just said “hey, it’s been a while, let’s get together for a drink”, thinking about sometime after work. He fired his reply: “I am free on Saturday afternoon in three weeks time”. Needless to say we did not meet.

My friend will be in Paris at least for a month and a half, as he is editing a documentary. His presence coincides with the nicest time of the year. Great!

U2 in Paris

Friday, five in the afternoon. Just tidying up a couple of things before going home for a long weekend. Tomorrow is my birthday and Tuesday is a holiday. I log on facebook. My friend Fernanda has an unequivocal status message: “I have spare tickets for U2 concerts in Paris, call me at XX.XX.XX.XX.XX”. I call her immediately.

Two hours later I have to tickets for the U2 concert in Paris on Sunday 12. This is an unexpected, pleasant and promising birthday present. I have been a U2 fan since I discovered them many years ago when they released “The Joshua Tree”, the album of their international consecration. I saw them live in two occasions: at Palau Sant Jordi in Barcelona, 1992, during their Zoo Tv Tour, when they trotted the world with a stage full of old Trabants and TV screens; and in Cork, Ireland, 2003, by the end of the Zooropa Tour, when they expanded the stage to fit big stadiums.

Since then I heard them only on their records. Now it is the “360º Tour”, a show with an open stage that can be seen all around. This will not disappoint me, on the contrary it will remind me the extraordinary sensations one can live in such a show.

It was definitely worth it. These guys are criticized for their use of pre-recorded sound, and for hiding their music behind screens and ostentatious technology. What can I say… The best live music I ever saw was by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, that is best quality music and nothing else. But U2 are much more than technology. A career longer than 30 years made them an undisputable reference of contemporary music.

That is what this concert is all about. A visit through my thirtysome. Songs from the new album, “Breathe”, “No line on the horizon”, “Magnificient”, or “I’ll go crazy tonight” where Larry Mullen Junior plays a Djembé!!! Songs from the most recent records such as “Beautiful day” or “Vertigo”, classics that leave me breathless and close to tears like “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for”… And they can still astonish me completely: a version of another new song, “Unknown caller”, where you can follow the words through the screens; halfway through the concert they use their long repertoire and play “The unforgettable fire”, which I had never heard live.

U2 has been on the first line for so long because they manage to adapt to the evolution of times, both to the music and to the technology. Meanwhile they stayed committed to a number of worldwide social causes, in a move that can be subject to criticism –as for instance the social responsibility of big corporations- but is yet remarkable and most welcome in many cases, since it raises the awareness about certain causes to people with little exposure to them. The stage goes green for the revolution in Iran while we hear “Sunday bloody Sunday”. And for once Bono remains silent while Desmond Tutu gives a speech about development in Africa, while I can see the coming of the red colours of my favourite song, “Where the streets have no name”. By the end of the concert Bono revisits the effect of the lighters and candles in a dark stadium, by asking the people to use their phones and cameras while we hear another classic, “With or without you”.

The concert finishes with a new song that in my opinion will be a classic: “Moment of surrender”. Yes, I do surrender. Great concert, great sensations, I could not have had a better birthday present.