The journey among duality

by Ruslan Poliachenko (Ukraine)

A leap into the unknown France

Have you ever heard about Janus? Being one of the superior gods in the ancient Roman mythology, he was the patron of all endeavors and the master of time. Ironically, now he seems to have been vanquished by his own servant: this god was left far behind and buried under the dust of our neglect in the irreversible march of time. Perhaps, the only distinctive feature of Janus, which managed to break through the heap of the past forsaken years, is his face, or, rather, two faces. Even mindfully looking straight into his eyes, one still can’t make up a complete picture of Janus, due to his ambiguous nature. There always would be another cloaked face with scheming and daunting eyes, mischievous smile and odious skin shade. Deceitfully, the origin of this concept is so mythical, that it hampers the realization of its practical value. Notably, beauty is so obsessed with hiding any symptoms of ugliness that the moment, when you discover the coexistence of both opposite attributes in the same object, really strikes you hard. I remember seeing Paris for the first time... Paris! Its gigantic Eiffel Tower glowing at night like a lighthouse in flames, the spellbinding Louvre – the sparkling gem among all art galleries and museums, the Opera Garnier with its golden statues boarded on the top of its facade, Notre Dame, the Île de la Cité, the romantic alleys and all the beautiful people falling in love with the city and each other – to reveal all this grace I had to pass through the gates of the meticulously hidden ugliness. On the day of my arrival everything went south. At sunrise I missed my flight and at sunset I wished I hadn’t got on the next one. I had a great plan of reaching my friend (my one and only support in the chaos of the unknown) in the heart of Paris, which, eventually, resulted in me being thrown all alone in one of the most heinous city districts. The crucial element that I took no notice of, while devising my plan, was the fact that my arrival coincided with the biggest yellow vests’ movement in history. And here I was. Standing on the dirty sidewalk, shocked and confused, kicked out from the bus by a horrified driver, who immediately took off. No Internet, no knowledge of French and no clue about what to do next. I senselessly looked around. I didn’t know where I was, but it, certainly, didn’t feel like a splendid destination that I used to dream of. To my right I saw a group of miserably starved homeless people desperately trying to set a fire inside a rusty deformed barrel. I heard their strident voices distorted by hardships and, even though сouldn’t comprehend a single word out of it, I felt shivers running up and down my back. There was a moment, when one of them noticed that he was watched and then abruptly stared at me back. Something in his eyes made me feel uncertain about their intentions. Was the fire set to heat or to burn? I faltered and looked away. Then I saw rats. Lots of them. Disgusting fat beasts sniffing around and making their squeaky noises. They looked happier than people and, maybe, that was because of their meals were heartier. Is the face hidden on the outskirts of this significant city genuinely ugly? Then I truly believed it was. But the interesting point is that after three hours of wandering about I finally was saved by the creepiest homeless person I have ever seen. He escorted me to the subway station and helped reach Auber, near which my true friend still was waiting on me tearing his hair out in despair. So, in the end, what is it all about? Beauty being ugly or ugliness being beautiful? I think both, as long as they make a complete picture and transform in one another. Jarus is not Jarus one and Jarus two, just because he has two faces. We can’t isolate nor deny ugly and disturbing things and phenomena in our lives or society, because in that way we rob them of the opportunity of becoming beautiful.