29 April 2014
29 April 2014
Bun dé, namasté and the voice of the clouds.
It is all thanks to the clouds if words travel from one end of the world to another. The clouds love running, loading the clean sounds of life onto their soft cloaks. At times the clouds unite, often they divide to send these sounds off into infinity. Clouds posses a divine virtue. Pessoa calls them opaque coils. Clouds of the plains. Clouds of the mountains. Clouds of the sea. Clouds that move around far from the noise of the earth, far from the silence of the sky. Far from us, from those who watch them from down below.
“One morning I say hello to a cloud dancing around the Sassongher. I say Bun dé cloud and she replies: Namasté.”
One morning I say hello to a cloud dancing around the Sassongher. I say Bun dé cloud and she replies: Namasté. At the time I don't notice, it all seems so natural. I go into the Hotel and I am welcomed by the usual Bun dé. The Bun dé of this hotel is not a normal good morning. It is a ladin welcome, in its purest state. It is respect, cordiality, a sense of joy. It is a positive sound, an indulgent bow, often accompanied by a smile. I instinctively reply to the Bun dé I have received, adding hands and saying: Namasté. In a fraction of a second I realise that the true meaning of the greeting is to recognise the sacred that is in each of us. The light that belongs to us. The distance between the Tibetan mountains and those of the Dolomites is cancelled thanks to the magical power of the clouds. I finally realise the importance of the Bun dé said well. It is because in this Hotel no one is denied a good Bun dé. Here Bun dé is synonymous with everything that can be given in the two syllables which, in their simplicity, are pure music to the ears and the soul. I leave the hotel. I look at the cloud which is ready to run. I know that now it will say hello to anyone who respects it like the great Bun dé. And the Bun dé will jump from cloud to cloud until it reaches Nepal. Of this I am sure.