In the middle of the twentieth century Alejo Carpentier wrote about the notion of people occupying different historical spaces while living at the same moment. It is possible to imagine Carpentier’s idea with the image of a man living in the mountains caring for animals in a way unchanged for centuries crossing paths with another whose vehicle, technology, and ideas reflect a firm footing in a way of life never witnessed by previous generations. Carpentier called this something that could be translated as “synchronism” or “synchrony”. These are parallel lives that occupy the same time and geographical space, yet do not interact other than in the most superficial ways.
On a recent trip to Washington D.C. I had the occasion to see a different sort of analogous existence. Having a young child means visits to pharmacies, convenience, and grocery stores at offbeat hours. When staying in an unfamiliar area of the capital I had to purchase milk. The sun was setting and I feared finding the stores closed on a Sunday evening. The map on my phone showed two convenience stores at more or less equal distance; one to my left and the other to the right. Going left the walk was only a couple of minutes, but it took less time to feel the atmosphere change. This was confirmed by the store which had thick glass protecting the clerk and a drawer for passing the money. It sold cheap alcohol, tobacco, and the section dedicated to food was small and focused on chips. There was no milk. This meant returning over my steps and walking to the other store. The fine people at google mark the distance as something which can be covered in seven minutes. This store not only had milk, but also organic vegetables, cheese with sprinkled truffle pieces, and a diverse wine selection. The milk came from local cows that lived well. The gallon was expensive.
Carpentier’s vision was one that involved historical time. The two worlds I witnessed both lived in the same moment and even in almost identical geographies, but the distance was large. How can we live comfortably with such obvious division? The inevitable result is tension and tension well channeled can bring beauty, but such a situation seems more likely to lead to something worse. This is a historical moment when our country is riven by classes, races, and opportunities. The fact that these tensions can so easily be located in a seven-minute walk in the country’s capital deserves a far brighter spotlight and more constant place in our conversation.
On a recent trip to Washington D.C. I had the occasion to see a different sort of analogous existence. Having a young child means visits to pharmacies, convenience, and grocery stores at offbeat hours. When staying in an unfamiliar area of the capital I had to purchase milk. The sun was setting and I feared finding the stores closed on a Sunday evening. The map on my phone showed two convenience stores at more or less equal distance; one to my left and the other to the right. Going left the walk was only a couple of minutes, but it took less time to feel the atmosphere change. This was confirmed by the store which had thick glass protecting the clerk and a drawer for passing the money. It sold cheap alcohol, tobacco, and the section dedicated to food was small and focused on chips. There was no milk. This meant returning over my steps and walking to the other store. The fine people at google mark the distance as something which can be covered in seven minutes. This store not only had milk, but also organic vegetables, cheese with sprinkled truffle pieces, and a diverse wine selection. The milk came from local cows that lived well. The gallon was expensive.
Carpentier’s vision was one that involved historical time. The two worlds I witnessed both lived in the same moment and even in almost identical geographies, but the distance was large. How can we live comfortably with such obvious division? The inevitable result is tension and tension well channeled can bring beauty, but such a situation seems more likely to lead to something worse. This is a historical moment when our country is riven by classes, races, and opportunities. The fact that these tensions can so easily be located in a seven-minute walk in the country’s capital deserves a far brighter spotlight and more constant place in our conversation.
