Sukhum seeks for protection
13.09.2012 00:00The man and the city -an exquisitely complex topic worthy of Fugue or a novel. We exist in the environment in the endless interaction with it, and the streets of our home town influence on us not less than parents and school. We only do not talk much about.
Sukhum, grown up between the sea and a mountain range, having two and a half thousand years of history, and twelve times changed its name, is one of the cities that have proved their viability.
Many brilliant capitals of a million people and a developed culture has sunk into oblivion, and sometimes their traces are found, archaeologists studying the finds and admire the expressiveness of past eras, but a lively flavor of these cities has been lost.
But Sukhum revives again and again, running to the sea from hills and delighting its residents with picturesque lanes and bated silence of old mansions, with its openness to wind and sun, and its vitality, finally. Everyone can remember the moments of inexplicable joy of communicating with the town, a subtle depth of contact with the past and present, that a child's playful mix on almost every street.
There was a man among us who knew every single old building, the history of its creation and the names of the first owners, the man who loved them and bitterly watched as time and greedy people inevitably destroy them. Anzor Agumaa fought with this as he could, but the law, standing by his side, often appeared just powerless as he has been.
Sukhum became an orphan, having lost one of its most devoted connoisseurs and admirers, an a true guard.
What next? We will continue to stare indifferently as historic buildings burn, clearing the place for those who consider the hometown not a living organism, but only a possibility for getting profit? Shall we turn the capital of Abkhazia into a faceless city with no soul? Shall we deprive future generations of a sophisticated look of joy to run on verified proportions of mansions that turns an imperceptible street in a special area with its own atmosphere?
It's sad that we are so indifferent to our own places of habitation; we did not have enough energy to keep what was left to us. As we like to say, what we were fighting for? For the opportunity to destroy national treasure unpunished?