Catalyst



by Line Rosenvinge

Intro text for book "avoir l'air " .A nifca publication 2002

Milk? No, Jesus is for free. "
Would you like to exchange something Danish?" - "What should that be?" - "I don't know. Maybe you get something from Africa."
Colonel has elected to make the entrance to a supermarket his stage set. He stops passers-by. Some are hesitant, as though somewhat uncertain as to what they've got on them that qualifies as 'Danish'. "What do you want me to give?" A young woman has just purchased a carton of milk she says she can manage without. Good! Colonel can build from that. All he needs now is someone from a different culture. He asks an African woman if she'd care to swap her bandeau for a carton of milk. "No, but I have Jesus. I can share Jesus with you. For free." Next up. "Is there something Danish you would like to exchange?" - "Well, I have my baby." The woman looks down into the pram and with a twinkle in her eye smiles at the Iranian woman who, distancing herself somewhat, declines to swap the baby in the pram she's pushing. "Well, come on!" - the Danish woman persists, but without success. A Palestinian man shows himself more ready to pick up on the joke, "Well, I've got two". It would indeed have been the ultimate cultural exchange if babies were sent from one familial culture to another. Money's easier to give. A couple of Indians exchange a few coins from home for a Dane's hard currency. Words, too, can be exchanged. A young Palestinian responds thoughtfully, saying that he'd like to offer the word respect. But can he accept a young Dane's proffering him the word træls [slang for 'wearisome'] in exchange? It's less complicated in the case of a black woman unselfconsciously sharing a hug with a stranger in front of the supermarket. A quid pro quo, you give what you get. A Jordanian is prepared to give a Danish woman his religion, Islam. In return, she's willing to give him her key ring, which she herself considers a neat fun item: it says on it that the keys are to Amalienborg Palace, home to the Danish monarch.

Colonel is a catalyst. He is the director of cultural encounters that don't always come off. As in the case of the Israeli who insists that he has nothing from his own country to offer. "What about your jacket? Would you be willing to swap it for something else?" - "It´s from Denmark. I live in Denmark now. Everything is Danish." Or the black chick who refused to blow into a balloon. She says that she has Danish air in her body now, and "so has you". Colonel insists that he has l'air de Paris in his lungs. Others, however, are ready to cooperate with him, blowing air into balloons to produce a suitably multicultural blend. Colonel stands as best man at the marriage of a diversity cultures presiding over the mingling of airs, reality in microcosm. Limp balloons are all that remain.