Little by little the old houses give place to modern buildings. The new buildings are not necessarily taller or prettier than these houses. Nor are they necessarily a bad idea, they only reflect the values of our times, functionality, security, efficiency. A sort of competition between these old, tired houses and young buildings, the survival of the fittest in action. The world must move on, and when walking around here it is possible to see demolition permits being granted, houses being torn down, change in the air.
Evolution is part of life and old buildings also have their time to die. It is difficult though, to avoid that a small nostalgia creeps up whenever one of these rebuilding sites appear, to see that the neighborhood grows younger as I grow older. This feeling is a stolen one, as I never lived in one of those houses, and for all purposes I am a newcomer to the neighborhood.
In the way home from the park, a white house stands in the corner. By all city planning criteria, it is a candidate to be replaced. It is old, it looks old, the buildings around it are all there for a few years only and the house across the street, which was exactly like it, was gone some five years ago. This house resists the passing of time and demolition crews.
Every time I stop to cross the street I look at it briefly and wonder how long it will stand. Perhaps, the secret of its longevity is the bar-tabac that is installed there. It is maintained by a Chinese couple who couldn't care less for architectonic marvels, and are only worried to make their business work. People come and go, day and night, weekdays and weekends, the relentless owners are open and keep the corner alive. As if it had wisdom from the ancients, the house in the corner managed to keep a young spirit within its decaying body.
Evolution is part of life and old buildings also have their time to die. It is difficult though, to avoid that a small nostalgia creeps up whenever one of these rebuilding sites appear, to see that the neighborhood grows younger as I grow older. This feeling is a stolen one, as I never lived in one of those houses, and for all purposes I am a newcomer to the neighborhood.
In the way home from the park, a white house stands in the corner. By all city planning criteria, it is a candidate to be replaced. It is old, it looks old, the buildings around it are all there for a few years only and the house across the street, which was exactly like it, was gone some five years ago. This house resists the passing of time and demolition crews.
Every time I stop to cross the street I look at it briefly and wonder how long it will stand. Perhaps, the secret of its longevity is the bar-tabac that is installed there. It is maintained by a Chinese couple who couldn't care less for architectonic marvels, and are only worried to make their business work. People come and go, day and night, weekdays and weekends, the relentless owners are open and keep the corner alive. As if it had wisdom from the ancients, the house in the corner managed to keep a young spirit within its decaying body.
OH! Simply, this blog is perfect! The photographies are precious and the text is really nice :)
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