Bubble, who mentioned it for the first time? Bubble, it’s sparkling, it’s neat, it’s a trap. Bubble, Ctrl+ F allows me to discover how many times the word “bubble” is used in our blog.
3 times in the first page. Not enough to back my arguments. So I scroll down, down to the very first post. Once upon a time, the 6th August, written by an unknown Albanian the only single story we knew about is that she had a weird looking name.
Ctrl+F again. 8 times, not so much in the end. And one of them is in an article I wrote. It seems I’m also obsessed with that metaphor.
The two basic characteristics of a physical bubble are its transparency and that it has a very thin film.
Now this article is not about me bullshitting about physical aspects of a soap bubble that I just found in Wikipedia. This article is about into what extent we can really say we’re in a bubble.
If we look at the transparency aspect, we do live in a bubble. Because we’re not in an opaque dark cage but a full window open to the world. Not so many relevant events happen here, so instead, to a variable extent, we mirror ourselves on the outside. In the end, many of our discussions revolve around Syriza, Paris attacks, ISIS or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, just to mention examples. But every argument has its counter-argument. Can I still live in a bubble if I left my family, friends, native language, country and problems behind? Does it take so little time to form a new bubble after popping the biggest bubble encountered in our life? Maybe.
What I found most relevant is the time limit. The expiration date, written on the top of the box, visible before we opened the package. “EMIS Class 2014-2016”. June 2016, the moment our bubble will explode, when we’ll start staring intensely at the sparse soap on the floor. That is why I think we are here. As reductive as a bubble can be, being unable to act directly on what we see from the window, we’re being empowered to face the crude reality. Corruption, poverty, crime, war, we’ve all become used to one or many depending where we belong to. Soap is an antiseptic, we learn to be critical, to question our contradictions, to not being able to turn a blind eye on the problems arising. Or even worse, this useless sensation of “déjà vu” that paralyses us, because it happened before and anyway it will happen again. And it’s from this freshness of mind that the most imaginative solutions will arise.
Bubbles are beautiful but it’s not the point of our bubble. We are not in an international school just because the juxtaposition of so many different faces is aesthethically appealing. We do not march for Peace Day because our flags altogether are colourful and a micro-representation of the world. We do not socialize with people from around the world because we like seeing that our Facebook post got likes from at least five different countries.
We are in this bubble because when this will end, we will know how to cope with the world. We will know how to cope with highly controversial themes which shook us as a group. Such as a next Paris attack, such as a next Tel Aviv stabbing, such as a next Gaza war.
These are just representations, referring more to the emotions we felt than to the actual events. My point is there will still be conflicts and no idealism should blur our view on that.
But we’ll be able to face them in a different way, a much more empathetic one. Because we lived in a community that made dreams our routine and peace our reality.
Written by Aina de Lapparent
Edited by Maria Tirnovanu and Alisa Sophie Rasch