The Culture of Objects in the Outskirts of Town

Saturday evening, 7 p. m. I go out shopping with my mom. No, don't think clothes, fancy shoes and jewlery; think marketplace. For some reason they've moved the market on the sidewalk, so now it is like an alley with tables displaying produce on both sides.

As we approach, an old guy, sitting by the first table on the right looks at us with interest. He has bean pods for sale, it's one of the things we came here for anyway. He probably recognizes something in our eyes, for he starts advertising his merchandise: "They're very youg, look! and I'll sell them cheap, I want to finish here and go home." My mother is persuaded. So while the pods and money change hands, i have a bit of time to observe the old man at the table across.

An outsized large-necked blouse hung around his scrawny, hunch-backed body. Trousers that once knew a darker shade of black flapped helplessly around his legs. His white hair could do with a bit more washing; against his skin, which had been darkened by the sun, a three day beard shined bright white. He looked at me for a split second with eyes that could easily belong to a beaten dog. I instinctively avoided them.

On his table, he dearly displays a... well, i guess you would call it a sound system, but... dating from the 80s. Just a black square box, nothing digital, no displays, with only a radio and a casette deck really. The speakers are missing and some buttons too. The casette deck is a ruin, it lacks the (d)eject system. Yet, inside there still resides half of a casette. He moistens the tip of his right index finger on his tongue and lovingly polishes different portions of this relic he has for sale. He keeps on mumbling to himself things like "oh, what a useful thing!" and "one needs to take great care of such delicate objects".

I cannot help thinking that he most probably extracted this object out of somebody's garbage. It probably is thoroughly useless. But with a finishing touch of his saliva, it will soon become irresistible to buyers, fighting anxiously over the goodies.

Monday 24 July 2006